WaW: Wastelanders and Wanderers (Part 1 of the Wandering Tetralogy)
by Jade117TLW
Summary: A childhood friend or a knight in shining Power Armor? The Sentinel of the Brotherhood of Steel or the Overseer's daughter? Family and tradition. Order and control. One turned into a monster. One became the person she was meant to be. Both loved a young woman called The Lone Wanderer. WARNING: Contains f/f, femslash, and what the "Wasteland" should truly be. The shiny, new rewrite!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

 _I am very sorry everyone, but I had to do it. I just had an issue with pacing and it killed my interest and distracted from the story I wanted to tell._

 **Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN FALLOUT OR THE FALLOUT UNIVERSE, NOR DO I OWN ITS CHARACTERS OR THE MUSIC REFERENCED THROUGHOUT THIS PIECE! THIS IS FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY!**

 **Summary:** A childhood friend or a knight in shining Power Armor? The Sentinel of the Brotherhood of Steel or the Overseer's daughter? Family and tradition. Order and control. One turned into a monster. One became the person she was meant to be. Both loved a young woman called The Lone Wanderer. WARNING: Contains f/f, femslash, and what the "Wasteland" should truly be. The shiny, new rewrite!

 **Rating** : Rated M for depictions or implications of _**cannibalism, rape, torture, mind control/domination (not simply hypnosis), physical augmentation/mutilation/, slavery, mass murder/genocide, mutation, and sexual relations**_. I will do my best to clearly mark if the chapter contains allusions to such content, or clearly mark where graphic content starts and ends. **EXCEPTION** : Fallout is a very violent world. As such, I will not mark or explicitly indicate chapters containing graphic violence if they do not contain sexual abuse. I am assuming those of you who have played the game are the ones reading, so you know what to expect in the universe, and brains being splattered all over the walls is no surprise to you via Wasteland Justice. In addition, drug use will not be explicitly marked due to the logic stated directly above. You've been warned. By proceeding, you agree that you are of 18 years or older and do not have an issue with this.

 **Pairings** : Lone Wanderer and Amata Almodovar, Lone Wanderer and Sarah Lyons, Female/Female. **NOTE** : Due to the nature of the Fallout universe, there will be depictions of rape and consensual sex between various parties, not exclusively Female/Female; though technically not the primary relationship(s) within the story, I find it necessary to point such things out here.

 **Cover Image** : I own the image. I took it in-game and modified it to suit my purposes.

As a head's up, I'm taking the liberty with a few things, most notably, I am giving Sarah more face-time: she will be more involved in the Lone Wanderer's quest (how else are they supposed to fall in love?), but I will try my best to keep her, and everyone else, in character as well as depict a natural progression of character development based on events as well as how their in-game interactions reveal aspects of their personality.  
I am taking a different approach to the traditional Fallout 3 storyline.

For starters, this will **not** be written in the perspective of the Lone Wanderer, instead, it's from the perspective of both Amata and Sarah, along with a few, choice followers. Secondly, I am altering certain characters' time with the Lone Wanderer: e.g. since Sarah Lyons is supposed to be reminiscent of the romantic interest, she will play more of a part in the story. Thirdly, there will be graphic depictions of _**cannibalism, rape, torture, mind control/domination (not simply hypnosis), physical augmentation/mutilation, slavery, mass murder/genocide, mutation, and sexual relations**_. These scenes will be clearly marked and labeled for those who do not wish to read. Fourth, I am throwing out the clunky, in-game dialogue: it doesn't flow at the pace I want and it allows me to have some creative license. Fifth, since the time period is reminiscent of 1950s America, such values (nuclear family, anti-Communist, homophobia, etc.), speech patterns (Transatlantic accent, to be precise), and music (through 1969 due to evidence from Fallout: New Vegas) will be referenced throughout the story.

I will also be posting mods referenced within the story at the end of each chapter, in addition to any lore-based evidence for my depictions, for all of my fellow lore-mongers.  
I hope you enjoy it, and thanks to all of my readers from WaW v1 and sticking with me through my journey of self-discovery as a writer!

* * *

 _ **WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS REFERENCES OF HOMOPHOBIA. See Author's Note at the bottom for justification.**_

* * *

She stopped shouting at the tar-haired girl, an uneasy feeling crawling over her skin. Something was different, she could _feel_ it. All eyes shifted to the two girls in the center of the bailey.

The blonde shifted, ice-cold fear creeping up her spine as the men stared at the pair, waiting. _Well, we have their attention..._

"Oh come now, Lyons," Conard jeered, "give Dusk a kiss!"

"That's right, you two dolls can hug this thing out. After all, you two are _ladies_." Jennings smirked, his arms crossed over his recon armor.

How _dare_ they? Lyons growled to herself, fists clenching with fury. The male initiates started to converge, stepping closer and closer. Lyons took a step back, pressing her back to Dusk's. The pair of girls exchanged a look, seeing the fear, wrath, and distaste at the situation reflected in each other's eyes.

"What say we put these dolls in the _mood_ , eh boys? After all, that is the _gentlemanly_ thing to do, ain't it?" Conard smirked, pointing to Colvin.

The blond-haired man nodded and, after pressing a few buttons, set a holodisk player at his feet. A few tinkling notes on a piano, and a chorus of men began to doll out a series of "doo's".

These bastards, they've been waiting for this, haven't they?

Conard took a step forward and began to strut around like a hobbing Mirelurk. Opening his mouth, he began to croon,

" _Why must I meet you in a secret rendezvous?_

 _Why must we steal away to steal a kiss, or two?_

 _Why must we wait to do the things we want to do?_ "

Most of the other men joined in, singing, " _Why, oh why? Oh why, oh why, oh why?_ "

Hot breath rushed into her ear, causing the girl to jump at the closeness. "See, Lyons? We've gotta prove ourselves to these _knuckle-draggers_. We can't just yell at each other and call it a day, we have to show 'em we can put up a fight, even if they think we're _just_ women."

Lyons' eyes instinctively shot to the dark-skinned woman standing vigil across the courtyard: Star Paladin Cross, her bodyguard. The technologically-enhanced woman stared at Lyons, the younger girl knew she would never let any true harm come to her... most certainly not from the men, she knew that much: she would be safe, even if it led to a physical altercation with Dusk. That had been their original plan, but Lyons was beginning to have her doubts. There were ten other initiates besides the two sixteen year-old girls, and while they had to prove their salt, how close would one of them get before Cross made it to her? "Cross -"

But Dusk had a point, "Forget about her, you know how the _men_ deal with problems: they fight. Why should it matter, just because we're _women_? There's a reason why you're an Initiate, and _not_ a Scribe! Do you _want_ to be a breeder?" Lyons flinched at the term some of the most vulgar members of the Brotherhood used to refer to mothers. "Is that how the 'great Sarah Lyons' wants to be remembered? Or do you want something more?" Lyons couldn't argue with that, they needed the men's respect, and she couldn't do that if she hid behind Cross or refused to clobber Dusk's face in.

Casserly threw out his chin, a stupid grin on his face. "What's that, Dusk? What're you whispering to your lady-love?"

"Shut it, Cass!" The broad-shouldered initiate growled from across the circle. Lyons sighed inwardly, thanking Steel that Kodiak was on her side.

"Fuck you, Kodiak!" Conard threw back at the bear.

"Get bent!"

"Oh-ho, _I_ won't," the first man chuckled and tossed his head to the side, "but _Lyons_ certainly will!"

The blonde gritted her teeth to the point they squeaked in protest. She was the Elder's daughter, she was _not_ going to stand for such insolence just because she was a woman! "Now, see here, _prick_ , I'm not going to stand here and make out with a nosebleed just because you told -"

The assembled men shouted, "Oooh!" at the impact.

Lyons staggered back, clutching her nose as hot, red plasma and snot spurted out. _She hit me! She didn't even give me a warning! That sleazy -_

Another fist smashed into her jaw, dropping her to the ground. "Who's the 'nosebleed' _now_!?" Dusk sneered, hands placed smugly on her knees to get a look at the only other female initiate.

Ice blue eyes locked onto their target. With an enraged roar, Lyons tackled Dusk, accidentally ramming her cheek into one of the woman's breasts. It would have been a nice feeling, if the reinforced jumpsuit didn't crush the blonde's face. As the pair hit the ground, the tar-haired girl yanked at the blonde ponytail and pulled the other girl's face between her breasts by mistake.

Men whooped and jeered at the sight before them: the Elder's daughter straddling another female, face pressed into the lower girl's breasts. Lyons gasped at her predicament, feeling her face flush at the faux pas... and... something else. Something shot an aching pang... _down there_.

 _What is going on?_

"What _the fuck_ are you doing?" Dusk hissed, pushing the girl's face off of her.

" _You_ pulled _me_!" Lyons snarled, the feeling in her lower abdomen fading. She threw a punch at the girl below her: they had wanted to prove they were just like the men in combat, not as sexual deviants!

Dusk caught the fist and twisted herself beneath the blonde, rolling the pair to the side. In less than a second, the tar-haired girl topped the Elder's daughter. The girl above the blonde smirked and said, loud enough for the crowd to hear, "How do you like that, bitch?"

Ire flooded into Lyons' lower back. She would _not_ let someone call her that. She would _not_ be bested. She replicated the move Dusk had used on her and rolled the girl onto the ground once again. This time, she grasped the girl's wrists and held them to the pavement above Dusk's head. A sense of satisfaction overcame her, and Lyons allowed herself to smirk. "There's a good girl."

The girl struggled beneath her, writhing against the fingers binding her wrists. Lyons shifted her weight forward, onto her hands, preventing the girl from breaking free. But... now what? Lyons paused, unsure how to force Dusk to submit and end the fight. Still, something about the girl squirming beneath her coaxed Lyons' lips to turn upwards into a sly grin. This was fun.

Panic rushed into Dusk's brown eyes. Before Lyons realized what caused her distress, she heard the voice. "Here, doll," Conard whispered, his voice low and sultry. It made Lyons sick and salt flooded into her mouth. She was going to throw up. "Let _me_ help." A pair of hands ran themselves from her back, around her body, to her breasts.  
Lyons forgot about the girl beneath her and jerked her elbow back, slamming it into that _stupid_ smirk. The man's eyes narrowed and his hands squeezed her bosom, she could feel the heat of his palms through the armor. Lyons felt the bile rise in her throat.

" _That_ wasn't very nice, _kitten_." Conard seethed in her ear, his hand crawled up her torso, over her neck, and enclosed itself on her jaw.

" _Don't_ you dare -" The blonde flourished her torso around and extended an arm, attempting to punch the fucker's lights out.

The man deflected her blow, caught her by the wrist, and laughed in her face. "Don't do what, _kitten_?" He pulled her to him and pushed his face into hers, his lips brushing against her mouth. She was going to be sick, she felt the saliva pour into her mouth, her body preparing her esophagus for immediate evacuation. At least she would get Conard off of her... but he was going to kiss her! No, she couldn't throw up, not even on this jerk-off: it would be a sign of weakness. But that _pig_ was going to _kiss_ her!

A deep bellow tore through the air and the man was flung away from Lyons. The girl swallowed the sickening, bubbling, vile substance in her throat and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, grimacing in disgust. _He almost kissed me!_ Out of the corner of her eye, she spied the familiar form of Kodiak, bashing his fists into Conard's face. From the way the bear roared in the man's face, Lyons knew he was having a blast at the thrill of _finally_ showing the creep what for.

She smirked at her close friend and was met with another facial impact. Pain lanced itself into her temple, sending stars shooting through her eyes. Dusk launched herself up and pinned Lyons to the ground, just as the latter had done to her mere moments before. A wild, crazed look overcame Dusk's features as adrenaline coursed through her body. "I've got you now, kit-"

" _Don't_ call me that!" The sudden surge of rage-induced strength threw the other girl off guard, sending her flying up and above Lyons as the blonde kicked her feet up and over her head. She sprang into a push-up position and jumped up as the other girl lurched to her feet. Lyons charged at the Asian girl once more.

This time, Dusk was ready for her. The girl spun around, rolling herself across the blonde's side before locking Lyons' head in the crook of her arm. "Check it out, Lyons." the girl whispered to her captive.

Lyons raised her eyes and her jaw dropped.

All around, the men who had encircled them a few minutes before, were brawling. Kodiak punched the shit out of Conard, Colvin and Jennings took turns beating Bael, Artoro and Blanchett pulled each other's hair, while Gallows danced around Stein and Casserly's kicks.

Lyons smiled; it wasn't what she had expected, and not exactly what she had wanted, but, hopefully, the men would think twice before messing with the girls again. _That's one way to spend your first day as an Initiate._

Her smile was short-lived, as Dusk took advantage of her position and drove her fist into the blonde's face once more.

The initiates beat one another bloody in the courtyard of the Citadel, as the holodisk played on, " _We'll just have to be content to be in love, secretly!"_

* * *

 _ **Thanks again everyone! I hope this story goes at a faster pace and peaks your interest more than before!**_

 _ **As you can see, there is going to be a lot more character development of both Sarah and Amata, and delving deeper into what they could have experienced and might experience in-game.**_

 _ **Since the Brotherhood is deeply ingrained with values present in the 1950s culture, I would assume homosexuality is a big no-no (big urge to breed: see Veronica and Christine in**_ **New Vegas** _ **for the more traditional Mojave branch of the BoS). As to the discrepancy in the gender ratio in the BoS, I'm marking it down as a game design flaw (thanks Bethesda for adding to the stereotype of game developers being unable to represent females accurately, it's not like we're 50% of the population or something).**_

 _ **I pulled several names from the "Casualty Report" found on Sawbones' terminal, for those of you who did not recognize some individuals.**_

 _ **The song referenced in this chapter was "Secretly" by Jimmie Rodgers, released in 1958.**_

 _ **I hope to update again next week: with the semester coming to a close (and a newfound inspiration), I hope to update regularly once more.**_


	2. Chapter 2

**_WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS THE PORTRAYAL OF FEMALE/FEMALE RELATIONSHIPS. (Don't get too excited, not a full-blown sex scene... yet) All characters are of legal age._**

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"Are you sure you want to do this?" the girl asked, shifting uncomfortably from her seat on the bed. Her cinnamon-colored eyes darted from her hands, to the wall, to the olive-skinned girl sitting across from her.

 _God, she's beautiful when she's scared._ A smile crept across her lips as she stared at the nervous girl in front of her. "Alice," she responded, taking her best friend's hands in her own. She squeezed the brunette's hands, coaxing her to look into her eyes. For a moment, she was distracted by the girl's sparkling, cobalt eye shadow, matching her attire. "I asked for your help. Don't you want to...?" She caught herself staring at the other girl's lips, still moist and pink from the layer of lip balm she applied after lunch. _Will_ _she taste like cherries?_

A rush of red overcame Alice's features. "I... I do, but..." she cast her eyes downward as she spoke, revealing her black, winged eyeliner. "What if we get caught?" she whispered.

The other girl sat up, straightening her shoulders. "I'm the Overseer's daughter." The statement dispersed some of the butterflies churning in her stomach, giving her a boost of confidence.

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of."

"We won't get caught." She leaned closer to Alice, the brunette's eyes filled with fear. "Besides," she moved even closer, feeling the girl's panicked breaths on her face and the heart fluttering in her own chest. "We're just practicing." her voice was low, provocative. She did not wait for Alice to respond, or for her own nerves to get the best of her. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to her best friend's, reveling in the rush of finally kissing her.

Alice gasped and jerked back, "Amata, wait!"

The raven-haired girl pulled back, stifling the protest in her throat and obeying her best friend's request. When the girl continued to pant and gulp, Amata asked, "Ali?"

Sighing, the brunette shook her head. "I-I can't." she pulled her hands away from Amata's and threw her legs over the side of the bed, as if she were about to leave. Instead, she paused and remained seated on the bed. She held her head in her hands and breathed, "I'm scared."

"I know," Amata whispered, running her hand over the brunette's shoulders. _So tense._ She leaned her head on the girl's shoulder and embraced her. "I am too." She breathed in, smelling the girl's straight, milk chocolate brown hair as it cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. She smelled of roses, as always.

Alice pressed her face into Amata's neck, seeking comfort. She was shaking, and her hot breath ran over Amata's skin, causing the now-familiar surge of excitement to course through the Overseer's daughter. She had kept her feelings a secret from her best friend, but she couldn't take it anymore. She wanted to show Alice how important she was to her, how she made her feel, she wanted to give that same feeling to her; but she was scared, they both were. She didn't even know if Alice felt the same way about her. And if they were found out, their fathers would never allow them to see each other again.

But it was a risk she _wanted_ to take.

"But it's just practice," Amata repeated, telling herself the same thing. "We're just practicing... for our future husbands." she had to force the last few words out of her mouth. Even the sheer thought of having a husband put a bad taste in her mouth.

Nodding, Alice let out a breath and locked eyes with Amata. The air caught in the raven-haired girl's throat and, for a moment, she forgot to breathe. "Just practice..." Alice echoed.

Amata nodded, afraid if she opened her mouth, all of her feelings would be revealed. She squeezed the girl's tight shoulders again, wordlessly begging her to close the distance between them.

The brunette stared at her best friend for a few more moments. The raven-haired girl was beginning to lose hope. Then, Alice drifted closer. Amata's heart stopped. A moment later, Alice's lips were on hers.

 _She's so soft_.

Strangling the moan rising in her throat, Amata moved her lips against Alice's and captured the girl's lower lip. The brunette gasped, and Amata exploited the opening, sliding her tongue into the girl's mouth.

"Mmmm!" Alice shot backwards, surprise crossing her face.

Amata froze and voiced her own thoughts, "Di-Did I do something wrong?"

"N-No, I..." the brunette stuttered, "You just surprised me, is all." Her chest heaved, her face flushed with red, her face and body so close to her own, the sight of the flustered girl set Amata's skin on fire.

"Do you... Do you want me to stop?" the raven-haired girl asked.

Alice's gaze alternated between the other girl's eyes and lips. After a moment, she shook her head and murmured, "No." She leaned forward once more, placing a hand on Amata's neck.

The raven-haired girl sucked in a breath at the contact, feeling her eyes roll up to the back of her head while a spasm of aching agony shot between her thighs. A moan escaped her lips just before Alice seized her mouth once more. The pressure on her neck increased, generating a louder sound flying from Amata's lips. The noise compelled Alice to press her lips even harder against the other girl's, pushing her tongue between her lips in an attempt to either swallow or muffle the sound.

The brunette failed to realize her actions were only intensifying her friend's reactions.

Amata latched her hands onto Alice's shoulders, yanking the girl against her body. She felt the swell of the other girl's breasts against hers, the heat igniting between them and making them sweat in their jumpsuits, the pressure of the other girl's hand on her throat while the other tangled itself in her long hair, her heart singing in her chest, her toes alternating between curling and pushing up, the tongue exploring her mouth, and the pain. The pain of emptiness and the desire to be filled, the aching _need_ to feel _her_.

"Oh, Alice." she managed to moan against the girl's lips. _She tastes tart and sweet, like a berry, and it's definitely_ not _her cherry lip balm._

"Shh, shh, shh," the brunette whispered, her sweet sigh splaying over the other girl's face. "Not so loud." her voice adopted a husky tone, soft and seductive, and sent another pang through Amata.

At the sensation, Amata moaned even louder, "OH!"

Clapping a hand over her friend's mouth, Alice hissed, "Shh! Amata!"

"I-I'm sorry," the girl mumbled against the palm pressed against her face. "I-I can't help it."

Cinnamon eyes narrowed slightly, and Alice cast her eyes to the floor, "Maybe we should stop."

"No," Amata lowered her voice, pushing the girl's hand off of her mouth, "I'll be quiet, I promise."

The brunette shifted her mouth to the side of her face, looking quite unconvinced. She stood up and walked away from the bed.

"Ali, please, don't go!" the other girl sat on the edge of the bed, finding her legs refusing her orders to stand and a crushing force forming around her throat.

Stopping, the fit girl turned her head to smile at her friend. The smile reached her eyes and lit up her face, the sight sent another pulse of desire through the sitting girl. One of the brunette's hands reached out to the dresser, and revealed a holodisk player. A moment later, she popped a holodisk into it. A slow, jazz song began playing throughout the room. Alice turned the dial, turning up the music and drowning out all other sounds.

Amata smirked as the girl sauntered over to her, her hips swaying with the longing drone of the saxophone. Eyes darting to the girl's hips, Amata could only sit and bite her lip in anticipation.

A slim, long-fingered hand flew to the girl's face, in an attempt to hide the flush of red in her cheeks. "What?" she giggled.

Blinking, trying to find the words, Amata shook her head and sighed, eyes still locked onto the girl standing before her. "You're just so..."

 _Beautiful. Perfect. Sexy._ she wanted to say them all, but the words caught in her throat.

"So..." the girl turned her hips this way and that, taunting, throwing everything Amata wanted to say out the window. "What?"

All the sitting girl could say was, "Pretty."

 _Oh, what's wrong with me!? So stupid. "Pretty" doesn't do her justice!_

The brunette leaned over the Overseer's daughter, placing both hands on the bed behind the sitting figure. The raven-haired girl tilted her face up, feeling all thoughts leave her mind.

All that mattered was this moment, this woman, this feeling, this _pain_.

 _This_ was what she wanted, ever since that special something clicked in her heart at the brunette's sixteenth birthday just a few weeks prior.

Alice dropped her head down, bringing her lips dangerously close to the other girl's.

She wanted _her_ , she wanted Alice to want her too. To feel the other girl pressed against her body, to feel her pin her down and ravage her with kisses and, somehow, make that paralyzing ache leave her body.

Gasping despite herself, Amata felt her heart rate quicken in her chest.

But most of all, Amata wanted to know if the girl standing in front of her wanted the same thing.

Alice pressed her lips to the other girl's, teasing Amata's mouth open with her tongue: running it over that crease between her pair of lips and probing her way inside. The raven-haired girl felt her eyes roll up once again, her eyes fluttering shut. She collapsed backwards, falling onto the bed. Alice caught the back of her head and laid her gently down upon a pillow.

The lower girl ran her hands over the other girl's back, pressing her fingers into the tense muscles around her shoulder blades. It was Alice's turn to moan into Amata's mouth. The raven-haired girl chuckled at the vibration on her mouth, wrapping her legs around the girl on top of her and pulling her even closer to her. Her hips twitched and bucked up as the brunette pushed her pelvis into her. Their tongues engaged in a battle for dominance, swirling and pressing against one another again and again and again.

She couldn't breathe, and she relished the feeling. Her skin was burning, set alight from the other girl's attention to her body. She wanted to get out of her clothes, she wanted to tear off Alice's. It would be simple: pull down the zipper on the jumpsuit and the other girl would open like a beautifully wrapped present. The thought of seeing her breasts drove Amata wild.

 _If I could just..._ the raven-haired girl ran her hands to the front of the girl's jumpsuit, fumbling for the zipper.

"Amata." she whispered into her ear, the soft, hot breath sending a shudder through the lower girl's entire body.

"Yes, Ali?" she forced out a whisper, trying not to scream, still trying to find the zipper.

Alice pulled back to look into the other girl's eyes, "This is 'just practice', right?"

Her heart stopped again, the breath caught in her throat once more, but not for the same reasons as before. Amata felt like she was choking, as if there were an invisible hand closed over her throat. She didn't think. She quickly spread her hands back over the girl's shoulders, abandoning her search. She responded, "Y-Yeah, of course."

The brunette smiled at the girl and reunited their lips, sending another wave of desire through the lower girl as their tongues resumed their skirmish. She crushed the girl beneath her with her body, coaxing a delighted yelp out of Amata. The fire sparking between their bodies, the contact of their breasts, the pressure between her thighs, the fingers digging into her hair, the other hand squeezing her throat, the wet tongue battling with her own, sent waves of heat over her body and breathlessness in her lungs and a yearning deep inside her.

Just the thought of Alice revealing herself to her, tearing off Amata's own jumpsuit, and rubbing their bodies together brought a rush of... _Is that_ moisture between her thighs. It felt amazing to have her in her arms, to have her on top of her.

 _Oh_ _, Alice_ , she wanted so desperately to say, _you make me feel so good! I want you. I want you so much!_

But the words caught in her throat.

It was "just practice", after all.

* * *

 ** _There is even more pressure in the Vault to breed than in the Brotherhood; thus, I think there would be a great fear regarding the punishment to refuse to breed or engage in homosexual activities (especially with the Overseer's daughter!)._**

 ** _Note, this story won't follow a strict timeline, necessarily (if I did, in the next chapter, I would be skipping seven years from Sarah's perspective, and that's a lot of content to discuss)._**

 ** _In addition, it honestly makes more sense for the LW to be female. Why would the Overseer allow another male into the Vault when the generation already has four, along with three women? Adding another male only makes it so one male cannot breed (honestly, I would think you'd want more females since males can reproduce at any time and females have to carry a baby and can't exactly reproduce further at that time). Besides, it evens the count to four and four (Butch, Wally, Paul, and Freddie versus Susie, Amata, Christine, LW) in your generation, that is, those who took the GOAT with you._**

 ** _I hope you guys liked this chapter! See you next time!_**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note** :

 _Sorry for the late chapter, it was death week on campus last week, went to Vegas this past weekend (because FUCK FINALS! I wanted to have a good time, dammit!), and then finals ended yesterday. No, the trip wasn't for research for my New Vegas story ;)_

* * *

 _ **WARNING: THIS SCENE CONTAINS DESCRIPTIONS OF MALE ANATOMY, AS WELL AS INTENT TO SEXUALLY ASSAULT!**_

* * *

The tinkling screech of a monkey wrench distracted the blonde from the shouts of men brawling, the huffs and pants of others sprinting or performing other calisthenics, and shots fired down the firing range playing throughout the bailey. All the while, Paladin Gunny screamed at the Initiates until he was blue in the face. When it looked like he would hit the deck face-first, he would suck in another breath, and repeat.

Shaking her head, the blonde smirked, thankful she was not on _that_ side of the courtyard this morning. She continued her work, tightening a few bolts on her companion's Power Armor.

"Ow ow! Hey there, _fream_!" though with Dusk's mixture of catcalls and insults to the men passing by on their laps, Lyons doubted this side was the better choice.

A couple of the men muttered half-hearted insults under their breaths, too tired from their workout to actually snap back at the girl.

"You're going to get us in trouble..." Lyons warned, speaking in almost a sing-song tune as she grabbed a pair of pliers from her toolbox.

"Pssh," Dusk scoffed, "Not a chance. Since you floored Conard last week, these guys are scared silly of us!"

Lyons rolled her eyes and resumed her work. _How the hell did she manage to get a suit riddled with bullets? Couldn't Edwards have given her a nicer one?_ She glanced to her own suit of armor, hanging on a rig beside her. It was another T-45d model, but hers didn't have _nearly_ as many scratches and dents in it as Dusk's. _You'd think the Quartermaster would take better care of the equipment._

"Run, germ, RUN!" Then again, from the way Dusk acted outside of drill, she could understand the Quartermaster's disdain for the girl.

"Can it, Dusk," Gunny's voice cutting across the courtyard caused both girls to jump, "unless you'd like to join 'em!?"

Dusk straightened herself up, standing at attention. "No, sir!"

"Then shut your mouth! DO YOU ALL WANT ANOTHER 300 PUSH-UPS!?" the Paladin didn't skip a beat, he just kept screaming at the Initiates starting to snicker.

"I told you." Lyons sighed.

"Yeah, yeah," the tar-haired girl huffed. "How's the patch job going?"

The blonde struggled with a 10mm bullet lodged in the chest cavity. "You must've _really_ pissed off Knight Captain Edwards." When the metal slug refused to budge, she sighed and shook her head. "I can't take this guy out."

Dusk shrugged. "I'll live. And if not, you can blame Edwards for me."

"It's _Knight Captain_ Edwards, Initiate." at the sound of the gruff voice, the girls stood at attention and spun around to greet the commanding officer.

"Good morning, Paladin Tristan!" both girls shouted in unison at the highest ranking officer in the group, raising the tips of their right hand's fingertips to their temples in salute. Knight Captain Bishop and the Knights Vargas, Sawagachi, Northup, and Glade stood behind the Paladin, their faces serious and straight but their eyes sparked with amusement. Each had their shining helmets tucked under their left arms.

"Good morning," the bald man snorted, "Initiate Lyons?" his sentence was more of a statement than a question, but the blonde knew it required a response.

The girl stood still, eyes locked forward on the yellow rig holding her armor. "Yes, sir?"

"Can you explain to me why both you and Initiate Dusk have failed to dress yourselves in the uniform of the day for field operations?"

Lyons paused, trying to think of how to respond. _Don't panic. He'll know you're scared and call you out. Remain calm._

"Sir," Dusk interjected, "We were -"

"Did I say something to you, Dusk?" Tristan growled.

The bite forced Dusk to clamp her jaw shut, after another "No, sir!"

Lyons opened her mouth, "Sir, I was helping Dusk remove a few bullets from her Power Armor."

The Paladin turned his fiery gaze to the tar-haired girl. "Is Dusk incapable of maintaining her own armor?"

"No, sir!" both Initiates responded.

Tristan flared his nostrils. "Note, if you are assigned a piece of equipment, it is _your_ responsibility to maintain it and return it to the armory in proper, working order."

"Yes, sir!"

Out of the corner of her eye, Lyons noticed how the Paladin glanced between the suits of Power Armor hanging from the rigs. "However, there is a substantial difference in quality between these two suits. I will have a word with the Quartermaster in that regard. Good work patching up the armor, Lyons."

"Thank you, sir!"

"Dusk, I trust you've learned a thing or two from Lyons' efforts?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good," he nodded. "Suit up and fall into the squad, Initiates. We have a long road ahead of us today." After the pair saluted the commanding officer, one final time, they quickly entered their suits of Power Armor and scurried to fall in line behind the six. "Let's move!" Tristan marched the squad to the gates of the Citadel.

Even after hours of training, Lyons still felt the Power Armor to be bulky and strange. Her movements were heavy and strained, as if she were walking through a jar of ancient molasses. With every breath, the moist air released splashed against the inside of the helmet and ricocheted back across her face. _This stinks._

The squad moved through the double metal doors held by both Vargas and Northup. As the senior members stepped out into the corridor leading to the gate, they smashed their helmets on their heads, locking them into place with a twist and a hiss.

"Remember squad," Tristan announced, "our job is to make our way to GNR Plaza, eliminating all hostiles in our path."

 _"Eliminate" hostiles?_ Lyons' breath hitched in her throat, she had failed to realize it was a combat mission. _Oh God. I might have to kill someone. No, I'll_ have _to kill someone. If I don't, someone could die._

"Routine clean-up, everyone. No heroes today, you got that?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Paladin Tristan!" a woman's voice called out from the bailey.

 _Oh no._ Lyons suppressed the groan rising in her throat.

"Yes ma'am!?" the squad leader responded to the senior officer, halting the squad in the corridor.

The woman came into view, passing through the doors still held by the Knights. "Good morning, ma'am." the pair murmured as she passed.

"You weren't forgetting a member of your team, were you?" the Star Paladin's face was obscured by her helmet, but Lyons could hear the irritation in her voice.

"No, ma'am!"

"You understand the _vital_ importance of me accompanying you this morning, correct?" Lyons felt the woman's eyes flash towards her, even though the senior officer's helmet did not budge. _Dammit, Dad!_

"Yes, ma'am!"

Star Paladin Cross nodded. "Very well, as you were." She spun around and locked eyes with her charge.

"Good morning, ma'am." Lyons stated. _I'm eighteen years old. I don't need a babysitter!_

"Good morning, Lyons," Cross turned to Tristan once more. "Shall we?"

"Squad, tune in to channel three, move out!" As the team adjusted the dials on their helmets to pick up the correct frequency, Tristan motioned to the sentry on the gate. As the thirty foot, rusted, red gate opened, Lyons held her breath, quelling the excitement rising in her chest. It would be the first time either Dusk or Lyons ever saw anything outside the confines of the Citadel.

"This is it, Lyons!" Dusk whispered, her voice giddy.

The girl's breath caught in her throat as the Downtown D.C. ruins came into view. The destroyed Washington Monument towered above the rebar frames of the other buildings. It stood in defiance, as if the architects wanted to commemorate the past president by thrusting into the sky as if it could touch the gods themselves.

"Wow." the blonde breathed, eyes drifting to the sandstone bridge spanning over the murky Potomac. _Everything is so... gray..._ The fourth arch of the bridge had collapsed on the Citadel-side of the river. The rubble had created a ramp leading up to the side of the bridge leading across the river. On the Citadel-side, arches had been cut into the sides of the bridge, creating a hollowed alcove through the bridge. A figure passed in front of the arch. She saw movement.

She saw movement.

There were people camped over there. Did Tristan know?

"Paladin Tristan, permission to speak, sir?" Lyons requested.

"Go ahead."

"There's movement on our side of the bridge, sir, in the alcove."

"Good eye, Lyons," Tristan nodded. "As Initiate Lyons pointed out, there are raiders encamped under the bridge. It is our job to remove them. Cross, Lyons, Vargas, the three of you will cross the bridge," Lyons finally noticed the rusted metal bridge standing between the Citadel and the sandstone bridge, "and enter the alcove. Dusk, Sawagachi, Bishop, you flank them from behind. Northup and Glade, you're on me. We're going in behind the first group to cover. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Move out."

"On me, Vargas, Lyons." Cross ordered, jogging towards the rusted metal bridge.

Lyons' pushed past the lump in her throat and followed her commanding officer. She pushed away the sinking feeling in her chest, instead focusing on the crunch of pebbles beneath her feet and maintaining her footing on the slight decline of the hill. Before she knew it, her metal boots clanged against the steel grating of the bridge. She glanced to her left, a glint catching her eye.

 _Ammo boxes?_ A trio of ammunition boxes sat nestled in the rocky outcropping to the left of the bridge. "Ma'am, I -"

"Quiet, Lyons," Cross hissed, "We're almost upon them!"

The blonde snapped her mouth closed, obeying the command. They were at the end of the bridge now, back to stepping on pebbles. The collapsed bridge stood in front of them and the trio veered left, towards the alcove. Lyons kept her eyes locked forward, eyes searching for movement. On the edge of her vision, she registered a pair of rusted cars piled on one another.

She shook her head. She couldn't get distracted now, her team couldn't afford it. Her eyes ran over the pair of cement road blocks flush against a giant boulder. The trio sidled up to the sandstone bridge, crouching low to the ground and slowly approaching the nearest arch leading into the alcove.

Inside, she could hear a ridiculous howling. It sounded... as if it were coming from a speaker.

Lyons held her breath, afraid her sigh would alert the enemy they were approaching. She clutched onto her laser rifle until the metal squeaked beneath her hands, causing her to quickly loosen her grip at the sound.

"Easy, Lyons," Vargas' lowered voice from behind her made the girl jump. She glanced back at the Knight and saw him nod. "You'll do fine."

"Cross, in position." the woman's hushed voice sounded in Lyons' helmet, diverting her attention back to the task at hand.

"Roger, that," came Tristan's reply, "At your mark."

Cross turned the corner, rifle brought up to her face, aiming down the sights. She moved forward, entering the alcove. Lyons' heart roared in her ears and she followed her commanding officer. There were three sets of arches, the one she passed through, the one on the other side of the bridge, and one directly between both sets, separating the rectangular space into two discrete sections.

A pair of dirty bunk beds had been pushed against the wall, situated next to an empty trash can. Strewn across the floor were basketballs, teddy bears, metal boxes, pages from magazines, toy Nuka-Cola trucks, gnomes, pitchers, and plates. _God, are these raiders or children?_ She spied a few car doors leaning against the walls.

Cross quickly vaulted between the middle set of arches, scanning the next room. "I've got one." she whispered into the radio. Lyons and Vargas joined their commanding officer, sights locked on a figure seated beside a table, a radio the only item on the surface.

 _"...tick-tick-tickety means get the Hell out of there!"_ Three Dog's voice emanated from the radio speakers.

"Stand down." Cross sighed, lowering her rifle.

Lyons bit back the protest forming in her throat and glanced back to the seated man. That was when she saw it: a bullet hole between his eyes, still bloody and showing the white of his skull. The blonde turned away, she had never seen a corpse before. The sight sent a wave of nausea through her, the same she felt when Conard tried to kiss her. _I'm going to be sick_.

Footsteps reached Lyons' ears and she glanced up, seeing Cross close the distance to the corpse.

She didn't see the trip-wire.

 _TING!_

Several things clattered to the ground all around the trio.

"GRENADES!" came Vargas' scream into the radio. Lyons felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist and drag her out of the alcove, out the opposite end they had entered. A Knight stood outside, on the other side of the arch.

But Vargas' reflexes paired with the strength augmentation of his power armor failed to give sufficient speed.

A loud _**BANG**_ filled Lyons' ears and she felt a liquid begin to flow out of her eardrums and down her cheeks. Her head was spinning. The air was knocked out of her. Something sharp was poking at her side. She couldn't hear anything, save for the ringing in her ears. She tried sitting up, but found she could not move.

 _Am I in shock?_

But then, a muffled whirring broke through the ringing. Her eyes flashed towards the sound. Almost, as if in slow-motion, a shirtless man dropped onto the Knight. A red chainsaw pushed into the Knight's armor, right at the neckline. A terrible grating sound gradually became clearer and clearer as the chainsaw was pushed into the steel armor. The Knight turned and twisted, trying to reach behind his back to get a grasp on his assailant. For a second, Lyons thought the steel would hold.

Then she remembered hearing how Pre-War technicians had created diamond-crusted chains for chainsaws to cut through concrete.

A spray of scarlet blood and tissue burst out, coating the chainsaw in its wake. The Knight screamed in agony as his attacker drove the weapon further into his chest cavity. The raider laughed maniacally as the armored man's efforts at resistance proved fruitless.

Metal clanged against stone and Lyons found herself turning to face the new threat. The car door propped in the corner had been thrown forward, knocking itself into Vargas. Out from behind it, a giant of a man jumped up. His skin was a paler version of the power armor rigs. His eyes were wide and wild, brown. His mouth was twisted into a snarl. He was shirtless. He raised a sledgehammer above his head.

That was when she saw it.

Where the crotch of his pants should have been, there was nothing. Nothing except a piece of flesh, just a few inches shy of a foot. _Is that a... a_ penis _!?_ It must have been, but she had never imagined such a thing to look so _ugly_ and _terrifying_. It was stiff, erect, and the tip reminded Lyons of Tristan's head when it got sweaty.

But what frightened her the most was the needle sticking out of its side... as if he had injected his penis with something mere moments before.

As he charged towards Vargas, bringing down the sledgehammer, the radio still managed to play on.

 _"Leaving just your picture behind,  
_ _And I kissed it a thousand times."_

The raider sang with the song, _"When you_ break _your fingers, or_ stab _your eye!"_ He smashed the space where Vargas had been just before he rolled away. The man with the big penis turned to the prone figure to his right: Lyons. _"I can't help myself!_ Fuck _you and_ everyone _else!_ " He kicked out his foot, aiming for Lyons' face.

Lyons jerked back, fumbling for her rifle.

 _"Sugar pie, honey bunch!"_ he brought down the sledgehammer.

Rolling into the wall, the girl narrowly avoided the blow. _Your gun, your gun!_ Lyons' fingers spasmed across the weapon.

The man tore the rifle from her hands and threw it to the side, straddling her, his penis almost twitching above her chest. _Oh God, that's big._ The tip was pink, and a white, sticky, clunky substance oozed out of a hole on the head. "We're gonna find out if the 'Brotherhood' of Steel is all brothers!" Before Lyons could reach up her hands, the man yanked off her helmet. "OH-HO! What do we have here!? Hello cutie. Don't worry, Big Kenji is going to take _real_ good care of you." He grabbed the back of Lyons' head.

 _No, no!_

With a disgusted cry, the girl finally found the will to lift her arm. She drove her fist into the man's member. To her surprise, he just laughed. "It's gonna take more than _that_ , cutie. I'm going to _fuck_ your -"

An enraged roar cut him off, tackling the man off of her. Lyons scrambled forward, grabbing her helmet, not wanting to relive the experience of having a penis waved in her face. As she snatched up her helmet, she jumped as a bullet glanced off her shoulder. _Shit! Get it on!_ She slammed the helmet onto her head, gripped her rifle, and aimed down the sights at the giant beneath the armored Knight pummeling his face. She let her training take over.

 _Breathe._

Lyons took in a breath, focusing on her target: the dark-haired man with the enormous penis.

 _Relax._

She let her shoulders fall, relaxing the tense muscles as best she could.

 _Aim._

A blue eye gazed down the crosshair, ignoring her ally protecting her and setting the sights at the raider's head.

 _Slack._

The blonde squeezed slightly on the trigger, preparing for the shot.

 _Shoot._

Red blazed forth from the barrel, impacting against the man's face and sizzling against the pale yellow flesh and dark hair and brown eyes.

The man howled with rage as his right eye was burned from its socket. Lyons froze. _I... I shot him. He's going to die._

"Again, Lyons!" a woman's voice diverted her attention.

Lyons' turned, and almost dropped her rifle. The Star Paladin's helmet had been torn open by the blast, revealing her dark skin and brown eyes. Her armor was dotted with punctures from the grenades and blood dripped out of the holes in her suit. Lyons' bodyguard, the woman who had watched over her for her entire life, was dying. A hideous hand closed over her throat, preventing the blonde from breathing. Her hands began to quake.

She was panicking.

The Star Paladin lay on the ground, unmoving, save for her mouth. She was saying something. _What is she saying?_ "Fire _again_ , Lyons!"

The blonde nodded to her superior and turned back to the raider. _It's okay. Breathe. It's just a raider. Just a raider._ She aimed down the sights again and breathed.

And with each projectile, another piece of the girl was chipped away.

* * *

 _ **The song referenced here is "I Can't Help Myself (Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch" by The Four Tops, released in 1965.**_

 _ **I'll try to have another chapter up by early next week (because I'm going to be celebrating our 6-month anniversary with my boyfriend, and then it's Christmas!).**_

 _ **Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays everyone! See you next week!**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note** : _Sorry for the delay, everyone, had a lot to do over the break. Here's the long overdue chapter!_

* * *

The billowing, white steam rising from her mug had died hours ago, leaving a room temperature cup of chestnut brown water: the remnants of her sweet coffee, long forgotten. But she hardly noticed, only remembering when she brought the cold, saccharine drink to her lips, just before she came up sputtering and grimacing.

A whirring and a clank cut over the humming of the fluorescent lights hanging overhead: someone just exited her father's office. Looking up, the girl cast her eyes to the doorway leading to the waiting room, racking her brain in an attempt to recall who had last walked past her desk.

Immediately, she regretted her decision.

Narrowed, ice blue eyes stared into her. His scowl was twisted, almost as much as the strands of hair hanging over his forehead or the snake on his back. There was no doubt in her mind that his soul was just as gnarled and contorted.

Lifting up her nose, the girl returned to her work.

A scoff reached her ears. "Well, _hello_ , to you too."

She ignored him as he passed behind her, there was no sense in even _conversing_ with Butch. As he flounced out of the room, the girl flashed her eyes to him, sending a death glare towards the back of the Tunnel Snake's head.

Sighing, the eighteen year-old straightened the stack of loyalty inspector reports from Freddie Gomez, placed a paper clip on the top left corner of the group, and settled it onto the meager pile of reviewed reports and forms. Her hazel eyes shifted to the work she had yet to process, a staggering two-foot high stack of reports ranging from safety reports to the cafeteria's proposed menu for the following week, and everything in between.

As the girl reached for another round of work, a pair of boots thudded into the room. The girl turned her head, finding herself regretting the action once more.

A three-foot stack of papers approached her, held aloft by the bottoms of a blue jumpsuit and a pair of black boots. A bald, bespectacled man poked his head from the side of the pile. "Hey there, Amata." He offered a kind smile, even as pages of his report slid off the top of the stack. As the pages began to fall, the man swiveled his body in an attempt to straighten the stack in his arms. The sudden motion sent the center portion of the report spilling outward, scattering onto the metal floor.

The Overseer's daughter resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Good morning, Floyd. Got more work for me?"

Settling the remnants of the towering pile of work onto Amata's in-box, the young man raised his shoulders sheepishly as he fought to balance the, now, foot-high stack of papers. "Yeah, the database..." He then began to pick up the papers strewn across the floor.

Amata stopped listening after the first few words, instead, diverting her attention to the pile. She rifled through the first few pages, frowning as her worst fears were realized: entire pages of what looked like a memory dump of the database were included in the report. Whether or not she would have to review each entry, had yet to be determined.

 _Great. Going to be here all night._

"...and, actually," Floyd continued, placing the gathered pages onto the rest of the report in messy, unstraightened stacks. "it's not morning anymore, not really. More like afternoon, actually."

The girl shot her left arm up, verifying the remark. Emblazoned on the top right-hand corner of her Data screen, was the time.

 _1:56_.

 _"Meet me at 1:00 for lunch?_ " Alice's voice sounded in her head, as the Overseer's assistant only now recalled the last few words they had spoken to one another.

"Shit," Amata cursed, charging past the engineer and exiting the office. "I'm off to lunch, Daddy!" She didn't wait for a response. She knew there wouldn't be one. As she set a brisk pace past the servers and into the atrium, she realized she had not said goodbye to Floyd, in her haste. She shook her head, the man wasn't on her radar, none of them were.

 _I'm sure Dad would_ love _to hear about that._

She felt her eyes move to the ever-present poster hung up on the wall above the cafeteria: "Thank you, Overseer!"

She glanced down at the door, pausing for a moment, considering what would happen if she decided to vault over the railing and jump down to the cafeteria door, bypassing the hallway and flight of stairs. Amata stood, thinking, ultimately shaking her head and continuing down the hallway to the stairs, passing by Wally Mack. Alice would've done it, she knew that much. But, then again, Alice was brash, fearless, ferocious even... outside of the bedroom: something Amata admired most about her best friend.

 _She's not like that when we're alone_.

Amata suppressed a shiver of delight at the memory of the girl's hesitant kisses and her face flushed with fear. The hazel-eyed girl found herself smiling, eyes rolling up, as the other girl's gasps and moans from the night before played in her head.

Hanging a right, Amata didn't stop when she heard voices emanating from the stairwell... until she recognized the female's voice.

"Oh, _fuck_." the girl moaned.

 _Alice_.

Her voice was low, husky almost. It sent a tremor through Amata.

 _But she's_ not _with me._

A lower tone echoed up the stairs, a man's.

 _Who is she with?_

Amata quickened her pace, rounding the corner as Alice's voice carried upwards, "What are you doing..."

The man leaned over the slender girl. She was pressed against the metal arch at the bottom of the stairs. One of his hands was placed on her hip, the other, propping himself up against the arch. His face was close to her own upturned face, their lips not two inches apart. Cinnamon eyes were filled with confusion and fear. Olive skin, dark hair... a green snake twisted in on itself on the back of a black leather jacket.

Alice gasped out the same name popping into Amata's mind. "Butch?"

The Overseer's daughter froze at the top of the stairs. She felt the strength in her knees evaporate; out of instinct, her hand shot out and clasped the railing, steadying her. A chill ran through her body. Butch and Alice. Alice and Butch. Here, in this stairwell. Had they been kissing? How far had they gone with each other? How long had this been happening? How long had they been together? Wasn't Amata enough for Alice?

A pit formed in her stomach. All of the affection she had bestowed upon her best friend, was it all for nothing? Was it meaningless? Did Alice truly believe the other girl was just with her for "practice"? Was it all to get to Butch? All of the nights spent laying awake, thinking about her, dreaming about her, _wanting_ her, should she have told her best friend her true feelings?

 _What_ the hell _is going on?_

Heat rushed into her fists. Her skin creaked as her hand clenched itself onto the metal railing. How long had this been happening? Had this been Alice's goal? _Butch_? The asshole who had spent his entire adolescence tormenting Amata and picking on Alice? The dickhead who had received a bloodied nose and split lip at every altercation? Was _this_ who Alice wanted?

Bile flooded into Amata's mouth, turning her mouth into a grimace. Butch. The Tunnel Snake who threw his weight around - he's a _barber_ for Christ's sake! - all because he curled the point in his hair and wore a leather jacket and thought he could intimidate others for his own amusement. What was _Butch_ in comparison to Amata? The Overseer's daughter. Alice's best friend since, practically, birth. The one Alice always saved and came to defend, protect, laugh, cry, rage, vent, smile.

The pit festered in her stomach. Maybe the reason was much more simple. Here was Butch, dangerously close to the brunette, threatening to undermine everything Amata had wanted - wanted, and could not have... All because he was a man, and she was not.

Her feet stepped down the staircase, striding confidently in spite of the myriad of emotions screaming inside of her. Her face hardened as the pair heard the sound of leather boots clunking against metal and turned their faces towards her. Butch straightened up to his full height, his expression matching Amata's. Alice's eyes lit up at the sight of her best friend, and she smiled. She opened her mouth to speak, but Amata shot a glare towards Butch.

"Oh, I'm _sorry_ ," the Overseer's daughter quipped, "was I _interrupting_ something?" She willed herself not to stare at the girl, the one she so desperately wished she could have pressed against the wall in Butch's place.

Cinnamon eyes widened in outrage.

"What's it to you?" the man growled, his tone possessive yet taunting, daring Amata to respond.

"Butch!" Alice shouted.

The raven-haired girl shrugged, masking her jealousy. "Oh, nothing. It's just, dark deeds and nefarious places. An underused staircase is one such space."

"That's _not_ -"

"Yes, you _caught_ us," Butch retorted, "Good for you. Sorry, love, but I've got to get back to work, I'll see you tonight." He pressed his lips to Alice's, to the shock of both girls.

Immediately, the brunette raised up her knee, hitting her target: Butch's crotch.

"Oh!" his cry of pain and consternation did not elicit any pity from Amata. In fact, she smiled to herself as Alice jumped on the Tunnel Snake and gave him yet another beating: she doubted Butch enjoyed a thrashing, despite having received so many from the smaller, slender, quicker girl over the years; and Alice was still hers, or, at least, not Butch's.

After a few more moments, Amata finally grabbed her friend's shoulder. "C'mon, Alice, you're ruining your jumpsuit."

As Butch scampered away, holding his bleeding face, Alice shrieked, "Don't you _ever_ try that with me again!"

Amata laughed, confident in her assessment. She smiled at the brunette. "Hey, I'm _so_ sorry. I got caught up with work and I lost track of time -"

"It's okay," the girl smiled, "I'm just sorry you had to see that."

"I've seen you beat up Butch -"

"No," even in the darkness, she could see the flush of red in the girl's cheeks. "The kiss."

Amata's blood froze. _Does she...?_

"I was waiting for you to meet me in the cafeteria for lunch, like we had agreed, and then it was ten till 2:00 and I was wondering where you were, so I decided to see if you were at your desk, and I was on my way up the stairs when Butch was rounded the corner and was right in front of me and I panicked because he was really close and I wasn't expecting it, so I took a step back but since i was on the stairs, there wasn't anything behind me, so I fell down the stairs and Butch was helping me up and then you came by and -"

The raven-haired girl sighed in relief. _It was all a big misunderstanding_ _. Thank goodness._ "It's okay, it's okay." Her eyes glanced up to the corner of the arch, the location of one of the many listening devices scattered throughout the Vault.

"I'm sorry. I should've found you sooner."

"No, I should've come down earlier."

Alice raised her arm and frowned. "Well, it's past my lunch hour already, I should head back to the reactor."

"But you haven't eaten..." the growling of both girls' stomachs punctuated the remark.

The brunette smiled a little. "It's okay, I can eat at dinner." Her eyes fell to stare at the floor for a moment. "I'll, um... See you _later_ , right?"

Amata suppressed the furor rising in her lower gut. "Right, at _dinner_." She sent the girl a knowing look.

Smiling one last time, the brunette spun around and darted off towards the reactor, her long hair flying behind her.

A small grin played across the girl's lips and she made her way to the cafeteria.

* * *

 _ **Thanks for reading! Semester is starting up again, but I hope to update weekly this year.**_

 _ **See you next week!**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** _Here it is! On time! It's a lot of introspection, this chapter, but the next one will be hotter._

 _As a reminder, I firmly believe the BoS would a) not educate their people on sexuality, excepting heterosexual relations of course, and b) despite Bethesda's relatively correct gender ratios in their Elder Scrolls games, failed to do so in their Fallout series (7:26 women to men in the D.C. BoS, 13:21 in Rivet City)._

 _WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS ELEMENTS OF HOMOPHOBIA AND FEMALE-FEMALE SEXUAL RELATIONS!_

* * *

"... this is Three Dog, OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!"

"Would you shut that inane babble off? It's giving me a headache." The radio broadcast echoed within the crumbling concrete walls confining the men and women like an ancient, decrepit cell. When not on duty, the hours were filled with cleaning their weapons, polishing their power armor, stitching each other up with rusty needles and dirty thread, picking at the paint flaking off the walls, and waiting.

Waiting was the hard part. The most maddening. Left with the eerily disturbing moans of sleeping and wounded men, the screeching voice howling over the radio, and your thoughts.

Her own inner musings drifted to the man who had almost killed her two weeks ago, it was all her mind seemed to drift to, nowadays. The big man, with the huge, bulging penis. She later learned the brute had injected not only his body with Psycho, but also his penis. Apparently it came as a shock to everyone when Paladin Tristan made his report.

"What man injects his penis with Psycho?" Jennings had shouted.

It seemed raiders were growing more and more dangerous, and insane, with each expedition the Brotherhood sent out.

She remembered the way he had waved it in her face, how it twitched and had that strange discharge at the tip. She shuddered at the memory.

And she swore, if she had to hear Three Dog's yowling one more time -

"Calm down, Lyons," the man's voice came suddenly, startling her with enough force to break her out of her stupor. "I know you prefer Dusk's sultry tone -"

"Go jump in the Potomac." Lyons growled.

As if to spite her, Conard turned the dial up on the radio as the broadcaster, not even five floors away, presented his public service announcement.

The blonde rolled her eyes, mentally preparing herself for another one of the disk jockey's repetitive, regurgitation of common sense anyone with half a brain of a mole rat would know by either heart or intuition.

"Lyons," came Vargas' voice as he entered the room. The young woman and the rest of the initiates jumped to attention. Once more, the room was filled with snickering from the more senior officers. The Knight chuckled, "At ease, initiates. There's no need to come to attention when an officer enters the room. Not in the field, at least. It could get one of us killed, one of these days."

It must have been the hundredth time he explained one of the differences in formalities when out in the field. The officers were lucky they were not out in the Wastes, a mistake like that, saluting an officer or standing at attention, would clearly mark the next target for any raider or mutie with half their senses... and a sniper rifle.

They weren't in training anymore.

"Lyons," Vargas repeated. "You're up. Report to Knight Captain Bishop on the ground floor."

It's about time.

"Yes, sir." Lyons slammed on her helmet and locked it into place, ignoring Conard's eyes boring into the backside of her metal prison. Even now, after weeks out in the field, she still felt the molasses coating her limbs, slowing down each movement.

"Give it a few days," the officers had said. "It'll be fine," they said.

Liars.

Still, it was either this, or the underarmor. And everyone knew what happened to the idiots who went out into the Downtown D.C. ruins with just their recon armor. Not to mention that Conard would send even more lewd comments in her direction, and it wouldn't be him insinuating a homosexual relationship with the sniper-in-training, either.

After reporting to Bishop beneath the fading sun, she joined Dusk on sniper duty.

"And so we meet again." the girl stated cryptically, though Lyons could practically see the smile on the other girl's lips, despite their helmets hiding one another's faces.

"Didn't think you were done with me, didja?" Lyons smirked, laying prone beside the other girl in her nest overlooking the GNR Plaza. Everything was still, as if someone had captured a macabre painting of the scenery: the orange sun fading over the horizon obscured by the skeletal remains of skyscrapers, the only witnesses were the steel men and women standing vigil, as still as the ruins around them.

"Don't sound so happy, Lyons." Dusk snorted, surveying the landscape and keeping one eye down the sights of her DKS-501.

The blonde rolled her eyes, "So what if someone hears me, Dusk? It won't change the men's opinion."

"Opinion of what?"

Lyons narrowed her eyes, Do I have to spell it out to her? "The men already think we're an item -"

"WHAT!?"

"I know."

"Those pigs!"

"Right?"

"They think just because we have the self-respect to not get banged up and poppin' out babies as soon as we turned sixteen, that we're homosexuals!?"

Lyons scoffed. "What? You didn't know?"

"No!"

"Not even after that stunt they pulled when we started that brawl?"

"Uh, you mean, when I emkicked/em your ass?"

"You did not kick my ass!"

"I sure did!"

The girls quieted their laughter: they were still in the field, after all.

"What did you mean then, if not referring to that?" Lyons inquired, curious as to what Dusk had on her mind.

Taking her eyes off the sights for a moment, the other girl turned to the blonde. "It's a whole lotta staring. Staring at nothing. Nothing but gray, decaying, ruins and rebar."

"Careful, Dusk, don't want them to think you're writing poetry for me too, do ya?"

The other girl shook her head, "You ought to be careful with that vernacular, Lyons, else your father'll think you're turning into a raider, what with you... not being so... formal anymore." She spoke haltingly, as if she were trying to find the words to express her feelings.

"Oh, as if your English is perfect."

"Shut up, be a good girl for me, and spot, will ya?" Dusk slammed a pair of binoculars into the girl's helmet.

If there was a time Lyons wished Dusk had been wrong, it would have been then.

Unfortunately, Dusk was rarely wrong.

Once more, the hours passed. And the man came back to the forefront of Lyons' thoughts. The idea of having to experience that again, to be forced to enjoy it, all in order to further her family line, sent salt flooding into her mouth. It was not something she wanted.

It was not who she was.

Lyons? A mother? Like hell. Never had she felt what was described in Vallincourt's stupid romance novels: passion, desire, aching need, wetness. Not with men. Not with, thank Steel, women. Not with anyone.

Was it wrong for her to not feel anything... sexual? Even thinking the word made her feel as if she needed to take a shower. If Vallincourt's, what were they, Charlatan Romances were to be believed, then it must have been.

With a start, Lyons realized she was lying to herself. She had felt a deep ache, before. That night she and Dusk fought one another in the bailey. The tar-haired girl had accidentally pulled the blonde's face between her breasts; and then later, when she had topped Dusk, the girl beneath her writhed and wriggled, struggling to break free. The mere thought made the corners of her mouth twitch upwards.

The blonde shook her head.

No, that's impossible. Dusk is a woman. I'm a woman. It's not possible. Women are supposed to breed. Two women can't breed together.

All women were required to breed, regardless of their family, regardless of their rank. It was the only way for the Brotherhood to survive. But why? Why couldn't they just recruit Wastelanders to their cause? What was so wrong about that? If she was required to have a son and a daughter, surely bringing in a man and a woman from the Wastes would suffice to bolster their numbers just as well.

Surely she wouldn't have to breed... especially if she did not want to. There were plenty of breeders, scribes, down in the depths of the Citadel to do that for her. She was one of the two, no, three women to have the physique and mental fortitude and discipline required to be a member of the Army.

Why would she have to breed?

Darkness enshrouded the plaza well before Lyons spotted something worthwhile.

At first she thought it was a trick of the eyes, her vision slowly becoming more and more accustomed to the darkness. But then a shadow moved in front of the light source and her suspicions were confirmed.

"Dusk," she breathed, barely able to contain the dread filling her stomach. "I've got movement."

"Where?"

"Beyond the school, in the building across... there's a light," Lyons tried to describe the scene in front of her as Dusk searched for the target. "There's..."

Two figures stood together, the curve of their bodies and scantily covered breasts betraying them as female raiders. "Two women."

"They're..." the shadow woman on the right, the taller of the two, shoved her face dangerously close to the one on the left. Her stance was haughty, as if she was challenging the shorter woman.

"What're they doing, Lyons?" Dusk asked, still surveying the area for the target her spotter called out.

The left woman pushed the one on the right, sending her backwards a foot. "Fighting. They're fighting."

Still, the woman on the right did not back down. She approached the other woman once more, her hands raised. "Now they're..." The right woman grasped the other's breasts.

Lyons stared. What? She blinked, looking away for a moment before peeking back into the binoculars, not believing what she was seeing.

"Lyons?"

The blonde continued her spying. The woman on the left grabbed the other by her hair and pulled her towards her, crashing their lips together in a frenzy. In a moment, the taller woman was on the ground, the shorter woman straddling her as the man had straddled Lyons two weeks prior. A flourish of movement from the shorter woman's hips indicated she had discarded a garment.

Then, and then... the woman on top rammed her crotch against the bottom woman's face. The woman on top threw her head back, her hands pressing the other woman's face against her.

"What the hell... am I looking at?" An irritated scoff resounded beside her. "Here," Lyons said, handing the binoculars to Dusk and pointing down the instrument. "you look. What is that?"

Dusk stared for a minute. And then a minute more. "What the hell are they doing?"

"See? I told you it was weird."

"Why is she on top of her?"

"I don't know, they were fighting, and then they started kissing, and now she's on top of her."

The tar-haired girl handed the binoculars back to her spotter. "Here, you take them. I'm going to try to line up the shot."

Lyons returned the binoculars to her face. The shorter woman was still on top of the other, but now her face hovered over the taller woman's. Meanwhile, the taller woman's knees had come up, the shorter woman laying her body between them.

The blonde kept staring, trying to unravel the puzzle playing before her eyes. The shorter woman's lips moved, almost against the other woman's. It wasn't until the other woman's lips moved as well, when she realized they were talking.

What are they talking about?

Her eyes shifted to the women's abdomens as the taller woman's knees began to shake. The two pairs of lips moved frantically now, as if they were exchanging words in rapid succession. A single, one-word response later, and the taller woman's back arched. Her hips bucked against the shorter woman on top of her.

Amidst the bucking was when Lyons finally saw the elbow bent at a ninety degree angle. The shorter woman was plunging, what, her fingers?, into the woman writing beneath her.

Where are those fingers...

Lyons stared, mouth agape.

"I've got them."

"Th-they're having coitus." her realization came out as a whisper.

"What?"

The blonde raised her voice, her tone piercing, almost as a shriek, revealing her impression of the appalling situation. "They're engaging in coitus!"

Dusk was silent for a few moments as Lyons kept staring at the two women.

"B-But..." Lyons stammered, "w-women can't..."

"Women can't breed." Dusk finished her sentence.

Women can't breed with one another. It's impossible.

The initiates stared at the pair of women for what seemed like hours, watching in silent confusion. Finally, Dusk radioed to Bishop, using their designated callsigns. "Dawn to Cardinal, Dawn to Cardinal."

"Go ahead, Dawn."

But Lyons began to wonder, emIf two women can't breed together, then why would they engage in sexual activity?

She continued to stare as the women exchanged saliva once more, but where there was frantic ardor before, if the blonde had to describe it, she would say their kiss was something akin to... tenderness, perhaps even, comforting.

Fighting one minute, fucking the next, now they're, what, hugging? Raider women are strange.

"Negative, Dawn, I say again, negative. Do not open fire. We're sending a team to investigate."

* * *

 _ **Thanks guys for reading!**_

 _ **Don't forget to PM me or send a review of your thoughts!**_


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** _H_ _ere's the next chapter; sorry for it being late, I had to wait until I could adequately transcribe an experience in order to give you the most accurate, and enjoyable representation._

* * *

 _ **WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS FEMALE-FEMALE SEXUAL RELATIONS! (Includes themes such as erotic asphyxiation and SM)**_

* * *

She planted a kiss on the brunette's lips, prying her tongue between cherry lips and pushing into her hot, wet mouth.

Alice hummed as the girl began her onslaught, sending a vibration through their mouths. The shorter girl backed up into the desk and gasped at the surprise hitting against the backs of her knees.

The break in the kiss coaxed a coy smile from Amata, "What're you running from, Ali?"

Her cinnamon eyes were wild. Her chest was heaving. It took her a moment, as the shorter girl stared at the Overseer's daughter, but then she finally spoke, in a growl that set Amata aflame. "Nothing." The brunette crashed their lips together, bruising them against each other's top teeth. But neither cared.

Suddenly, Amata was pushed back, faster and faster until she collided with something. The abrupt force sent the girl flying back onto the bed. Alice lifted the girl by her waist, to the shock and delight of the girl being carried, and threw her further up the bed, ensuring there was ample room for both to lay down comfortably.

Alice pinned Amata's wrists to the bed. Both girls were panting. Both girls stared at each other. With a practiced hand, Alice pulled down the zipper of Amata's jumpsuit, biting her lip in anticipation as the girl below her slowly opened up. Amata's heart pounded so loudly, she half-expected it to burst out of her chest, and the moisture accumulating down below, had most certainly already dampened her panties.

 _Oh, hurry up!_ she begged in her mind, but Alice took her sweet time.

The brunette pressed her lips to the lower girl's right ear, spreading her hands across the heaving chest beneath her and halting the zipper's descent. Her long fingers pressed against Amata's breasts, eliciting a sharp whimper from the girl beneath her. "Tell me how much you want me." Alice growled, her hot breath sending shivers of pleasure down the raven-haired girl's spine.

"Oh, Ali," she moaned, pressing her chest up against the girl's hands, wanting her to press even harder and _squeeze_. "I _want_ you!" As the words came out of her mouth, she felt the wonted ache inside of her again. It was more persistent now, a piercing stab of stinging desire. It was painful, but she _loved_ it.

Pressure on top of her increased as the slender girl pushed down against the lower girl's body, crushing the air out of Amata's lungs. "I want you to _beg_ for it."

"Please -"

A hand flew to Amata's throat, squeezing. "You've got to do better than that, my good girl."

The grip tightened around her neck, allowing the girl to only take in short, shallow breaths. "Fuck me." the words escaped from between her lips, making her face grow hot with shame and delight.

"What was that?" Tighter grip, hot breath racing into her ear, teeth nipping at her earlobe, hands squeezing her wrists when they should have been squeezing her breasts, _no_ , her nipples. The mouth moved to her chest, flicking one of the lower girl's nipples with her tongue before sucking and biting.

" _Fuck_ me!" her hips bucked up into the girl's stomach, her pussy spreading her slick desire over her lover.

A low chuckle sent another shiver before the brunette whispered, "I'd thought you'd _never_ ask." She tore off Amata's clothes, not caring when the zippers popped on her jumpsuit and the cloth tore on her tank top and boyshorts. A brief moment of exposure made Amata cold, before the girl released her own body from its leather prison and slammed their searing forms together.

Amata moaned, hands flying to that space between the girl's shoulder blades as lips sucked and teeth sank into her neck. Her eyes rolled up in pleasure and she raked her nails down the other girl's back, knowing full well the consequences of her actions, yet still wanting them all the same.

The brunette hissed in pain and her hand returned to Amata's favorite place. " _That_ wasn't very nice." Her cinnamon eyes reflected the same frenzied desire in the lower girl: wide and wild. Her hand closed around the girl's throat, "Apologize to your mistress."

"I-I'm," the pressure increased. "S-s-sor-rry!"

"You will be!" Fingers entered Amata, arching the girl's back up at the sensation of _finally_ being filled. The fingers pushed in and out at a merciless speed, sending a strangely arousing _squelch_ ing sound through the air, interrupted only by sharp cries of pleasure from the lower girl. Alice hummed and released another chuckle, "You're so _wet!_ "

"Ah! Ah! Ah! S-so wet for you!" Black spots danced in Amata's vision and the girl on top of her pumped her fingers inside of her at an impossible speed.

A hand yanked one of her own to her lover's pussy and Amata was inside of her. She moaned and bounced up and down, impaling herself on Amata's fingers, her perky, round breasts moving up and down with each motion. The girl's eyes closed and she threw her head back in ecstasy. Amata ignored the pain in her wrist, instead, staring at the girl fucking herself on top of her. Amata felt the bottom of her feet begin to heat up and her toes curled in anticipation at what was about to come.

A mouth seized hers, pushing inside with a possessing tongue and entering in and out, fucking her mouth at the same breakneck speed as her fingers. She felt the girl's fingers curl inside of her and a thumb rub over that sensitive spot just above her entrance and the lightning exploded for the first time inside of her. Her eyes squeezed shut. She screamed against the tongue fucking her mouth just before her lover screamed against her lips. Her back arched even higher. A hand dug into her lover's back, pulling her even closer to her and pressing their breasts together; her other hand slick with her lover's pleasure. Amata's hips bucked up and down, spasming with the waves of pleasure and ramming up against the other girl. Her legs kicked out and her toes curled and her feet were on fire. The metal walls enclosing her mind collapsed, all thoughts went away.

All that mattered was this moment. This feeling. This pleasure.

She didn't know how long she screamed into the girl's mouth. She didn't know how long her hips bucked and legs kicked and hands pulled at and against her lover. But when it was over, she lay there, body still quivering as Alice wrapped her arms around her, nestling against the Overseer's daughter drenched in sweat, and both girls laying half-covered by a damp sheet that smelled like Amata.

* * *

 _ **Okay, I've left some things in there purposefully. For those who caught it, good eye; for those who didn't, don't worry, just enjoy the show.**_

 _ **I'm trying my hand at a technique I'm unfamiliar with, and I hope it pays off!**_

 _ **No guarantees if I'll post on time tomorrow, I'll try though! See you next time!**_


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** _Hey everyone, sorry for the delay, I realized I needed to add some further realism when dealing with snipers (thankfully the boyfriend had a sniper's manual in his personal library). As a result, I've been turning over the chapter in my head repeatedly, hoping it makes sense and is, at least, semi-realistic._

 _That's not to mention how swamped I was with schoolwork, work-work, family issues... and how I've been working on an original idea of my own._

 _Semester is finally over, so now I have plenty of free time on my hands to finally update. :)_

* * *

 _ **WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS FEMALE-FEMALE SEXUAL RELATIONS AND ALLUDES TO MALE-FEMALE SEXUAL RELATIONS!**_

* * *

Lyons' attempt to wipe the gunk from her eyes was thwarted by her helmet. _Oh, right_. She raised her arms above her head, stretching, wincing when her bones creaked and cracked. Despite having been in the sniper nest for the past two weeks, she still was not used to sleeping in her power armor... for an hour, at most, at a time.

Still, she stood from her sitting position and swapped places with Dusk, the blonde now taking her turn at watching one of the alleys in the dead city.

What made it worse, was that it was Tuesday. The pair of raider women, whom Lyons silently named "Violet" and "Pinky", so-called for their obnoxious choices in hair color, made their excursions to the school often: every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. In the expanse of concrete and silence, it became the highlight of Lyons' day.

The women would venture to the same window and engage in intercourse. Some days, Pinky, the taller girl, would best Violet in their bouts: topping the shorter girl and having her way with her. Just the thought of the short girl struggling beneath her, sent a shudder through Lyons.

She imagined Violet swaying her hips in front of her, teasing her, just _begging_ for the blonde to fuck her; Lyons would tear off her clothes, pulling her hair and raking nails down her back; her lips were on Violet's, biting and sucking and licking; one hand squeezing and pulling at one of the lower girl's breasts, teasing and pinching the nipple; her other hand plunging into the other girl, making her scream and buck and grind against the blonde.

Lyons gasped at the now-familiar, yet strangely uncomfortable, flood of moisture soaking into her panties.

But, she would have to suffer through another Tuesday; and everyone knew, that nothing ever happened on Tuesdays.

She scanned the length and width of the alleyway, keeping her eyes moving as Dusk had insisted upon. _God, I hate this._ While Lyons knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, that her job as spotter was important - she was responsible for keeping threats away from this entry into GNR Plaza, after all - she found it hard to find such purpose when she was left with staring at gray concrete, gray rubble, gray rebar, dark gray asphalt, and purple hair.

 _Purple hair!?_

Lyons snapped her binoculars back to the flash of color. Violet disappeared behind a wall, one of her hands extended before her and was captured by another's. The blonde shifted her view to Violet and Pinky's window. A tall, bald individual grinned as he pulled the purple-haired girl towards him.

Heart sinking, Lyons grimaced in distaste at the turn of events. _She's with a man._ She did not satisfy her morbid curiosity, refusing to observe what transpired between the pair. Instead, she diverted her attention back to the alleyway: the gray rubble and concrete seemed so interesting now.

Hot breath slid into her ear. Lyons jumped.

"Don't get too excited, Little Miss Voyeur." The blonde did not have to look in order to see the smirk on Dusk's face.

"Not with _you_ ," Lyons growled, "nor him."

"Him? Pinky's got a boyfriend now?"

"Violet does. Don't know where Pinky is."

Dusk squinted, raising a horizontal hand to her forehead. "Well, I'll be! What d'ya think happened?"

"Don't know."

"Don't sound so sad," the sniper chuckled, elbowing Lyons in the ribs.

Lyons snorted. "Couldn't sleep?"

"It's been an hour."

"Already?"

Dusk nodded and threw her head to the corner of the empty room. "Yep, take your nap."

Lyons glanced towards the school, but the purple-haired girl and her new lover were already gone. The blonde took one more look at the alleyway. Movement. Green shirt. "I've got one."

The tar-haired girl slid into position behind her rifle. "Call it in."

Speaking into the radio, Lyons almost forgot to use her callsign. "L - Tiger to Cardinal. Tiger to Cardinal, over."

After a few seconds, Bishop's voice crackled over the speaker. _"Go ahead, Tiger, over."_

"We've got a Romeo waltzing down our entry. Please confirm, over." Dusk peered down her sights, shutting one eye, as the pair waited for the go.

 _"Roger, Tiger. Target confirmed. Fire when ready, over."_

Lyons whipped out her range table, a laminated spreadsheet comprised of tens of columns. She stared into her binoculars for a moment, noting the digital number popping up as she aimed them at the raider. _Three hundred yards_.

She checked her other instruments. _Sixty-six_ _degrees Fahrenheit. Air pressure at 29.97 inches of mercury. Why was she with a man?_ Lyons shook her head, urging herself to focus on the task at hand.

"Take your time, Lyons."

 _Humidity... 87. Wind speed at 5 miles per hour..._ She watched the raider as he continued to walk towards their position. _Are men more... interesting?_ A shudder pulsated over her body as she forced down the bile rising in her throat. Then she remembered the raider's throbbing member. _No, vaginas are prettier than penises... but why? Is it more... fun with a man?_ Just the thought of allowing a man to touch her...

 _Fifteen degrees down._ "Oh-point-nine-one inches down, Dusk."

The sniper checked her sights. "Are you sure?"

Lyons referenced her ballistics table, trying to match up the appropriate readings to the trajectory compensation. "Uh..." The entries blurred together, but she was positive her initial assessment was correct. "Yes..."

Adjusting to the given trajectory, Dusk confirmed the angle's value before squeezing the trigger. _THUNK!_ The rifle shook as the bullet sped out of the chamber. Lyons stared at the raider, now raising his weapon in confusion and turning this way and that. _Why isn't he down?_

"You fucked up your angles, Lyons," Dusk snarled, popping the bullet casing out of the chamber before re-aiming.

Lyons fumbled with her tables, checking her instruments once again for the air conditions. Another _THUNK!_ Glancing up, the blonde saw the raider in green had collapsed to the ground, dead.

The sniper turned to Lyons, glaring. But the radio voiced her opinion on the matter, _"Tiger, Dawn, what_ the hell _was that!?"_

Speechless, Lyons reacted a half-second too late as Dusk snatched the radio away. "Miscalculation, Cardinal. Won't happen again, over." She threw the receiver at Lyons. "C'mon. We've gotta move."

Lyons remained silent as she helped pack up their equipment. One shot from a sniper's nest was sufficient, but two would broadcast to the rest of the raider's squad their exact location.

The blonde cursed herself as she tried to drive away the pit forming in her throat and the thoughts of the purple-haired girl from her mind.

* * *

 _ **Thank you all for reading! Once again, summer is here, (thank goodness!) and you can expect weekly updates to resume. :)**_

 _ **I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, let me know what you think in a review or PM me, and I'll see you next week!**_


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:** _Hey everyone! This one's a little short, but I hope it's worth it :)_

* * *

Her eyes snapped to the new clock above her desk. 12:57.

 _I'm not going to be late today._

"I'm off to lunch, Daddy!" Amata bounded past the servers, hung a right, and pounded down the stairs.

"Hey, Amata," a tall, young man grunted. Brown hair, gray eyes, underbite: Wally.

Sliding past the broad-shouldered man, the Overseer's daughter replied with a polite smile before entering the cafeteria. Her eyes scanned the room, looking for the cascade of chocolate hair. The Gomez family sat in the booth to her left. Susie and Christine chatted at the bar. Butch laughed with Freddie.

 _No, Freddie is sitting with his parents._ Amata stared, eyes narrowed, at the one seated with Butch.

The Tunnel Snake threw his head back in laughter, his arm propped up and over the back of the red leather seat. His blue eyes shone, almost as much as the oil in his hair. She hated him. She hated his eyes. She hated his hair and that stupid curl in the front. She hated his crooked smile. She hated his laugh. She hated the way he stared at Alice: like a starving wolf eyeing a doe. It was almost the same way he was staring at -

Butch locked eyes with Amata. His smile fell into a grimace. The sudden change in his demeanor prompted his partner to turn around.

Cinnamon eyes stared at the Overseer's daughter.

"Alice." Amata stared at Alice's new haircut: short and boyish and with that _curl_.

The greaser's lips moved, muttering something to Alice as he stood from his seat. Slapping a smug smirk on her face, Amata strode towards the booth.

"No, wait, Butch," Alice protested, sending a pang of scorching, wrathful heat into Amata's forehead and fists.

"Sorry, _baby_ , but I've gotta -"

"Put an egg in your shoe and beat it!" Amata slid into the booth, taking _her_ seat beside Alice.

The Tunnel Snake wrinkled his nose in a sneer at the Overseer's daughter. "All the same, don't wanna be seen with a _wet rag_ anyway." Before Amata could come up with a witty retort, the dip stormed out of the cafeteria.

"What was that about?" The brunette furrowed her brow at Amata.

Amata shot out her chin. "'What was _that_ about?' What about your _hair_? What has he done with it?"

Fingers running through the back of her hair, Alice frowned. "Do you not like it?"

 _"Like it"? You look like a boy!_

"I asked Butch to do something new to it..."

 _Oh, so is_ he _your best bud now?_

"...after I almost got it caught in the..." Amata stopped listening as Alice went on and on about the machinery she handled and how if you caught something in it, you'd lose a finger or a hand or an arm or something.

"Actually, Paul was the one who suggested I get it cut."

The statement made Amata's ears perk up. _So it's not just Butch, then._ She did her best to hide the grimace playing on her face. "Paul?"

"Yep," Alice smiled up at Amata. "What do you think?"

Amata fixed her eyes on the brunette. Her straight hair was short, no more than an inch thick in some places. It was slicked back with some oily substance, like Butch's. But then it also curled over her forehead in typical Tunnel Snake fashion. Her hair was out of her face, now, and her bright, cinnamon eyes were no longer obscured by dark, chocolate waves.

But her hair was Butch's. It belonged to Butch.

"I preferred you with long hair," Amata hummed before thanking Andy for the fresh mug of coffee. Red flooded into Alice's face as she dropped her gaze. Amata took a long sip from the white mug. "What were you two talking about, anyway?"

"What's it to you?"

"You've been spending quite a lot of time with the boy who used to bully me."

"Don't be like that."

"And why shouldn't I?"

"He's not so bad," Alice propped her head up on an elbow on the seat. "He's changed."

Amata snorted. "'Changed'. You mean his balls dropped?"

"What is _wrong_ with you!?"

"What does it matter? You're _my_ best friend. _Not_ Butch's!"

Alice's eyes darted around the room and her voice lowered. "I will _not_ talk about this with you. Not here." She stood up from her seat. "I'll talk to you later." Alice stormed out of the cafeteria, Amata in pursuit. The brunette did not turn around, though Amata _knew_ she was aware of her presence. The pair delved deeper into the Vault, towards the reactor level, Alice's workplace.

But Amata wasn't having that.

She grabbed Alice's hand and dragged her towards the brunette's apartment.

"Let go," Alice protested, twisting her arm this way and that in an attempt to be released. When it was apparent Amata would do no such thing, Alice relented, "Where are you taking me?"

"You still have forty-five before you have to go back," the Overseer's daughter opened the steel door and shoved Alice inside before shutting the slab behind them. "It gives us _plenty_ of time to... _understand_ each other."

Alice backed into the table, her eyes wide and wild and wanting. She lifted her chin in defiance as Amata approached to a dangerous closeness. "And how would we do that?"

The Overseer's daughter wrapped her arms around the girl before her. Amata breathed into the shorter girl's ear before asking, "What is Butch to you?"

"Nothing."

Amata grinned. "And what am I?"

Pain lanced into Amata's scalp as Alice grabbed her hair. Teeth nipped at her ear. Another hand grasped a fistful of ass-flesh, possessing, drawing Amata closer to the girl. Moisture dripped into Amata's panties as a low, sultry voice accompanied the action, "You're my good girl."

* * *

 _ **Thanks everyone for reading! See you in the next chapter!**_


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note:** _Very late, sorry! I've been revamping an original idea of mine (ended up switching from a male protagonist to a female and had to figure out what changes that all made to the backstory, relationships, blah blah blah). My bad!_

 _In addition, I hit a wall late in the chapter regarding a certain issue... trying to figure out if my assumptions (on the treatment of certain individuals) were accurate._

* * *

 _ **WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS FEMALE-FEMALE SEXUAL RELATIONS!**_

* * *

Hips swayed from side to side, sauntering towards her, _taunting_ her. "What is it, Aspirant? Radscorpion got your tongue?" The violet-haired girl giggled, raising a dirt-encrusted hand to her face.

Lyons remained silent. Her mouth was dry. Her hands pulsed with unseen electricity. Her eyes fixated on the girl's cleavage. _No, not a girl - not with_ that _figure. Violet's a_ woman _._ Her breasts were small, but they would still probably fill up Lyons' long-fingered hands. They weren't the strange, drooping, fat, pointed ones Vallincourt strutted around with in the showers.

No, Violet's were round and perky and small and beautiful, just like the rest of her body. Her skin was dark, whether from dirt or the natural shade of her complexion, Lyons couldn't tell. She was slender, but rigid muscles clung to her small frame, betraying what she was capable of.

"You just gonna stand there?"

Her voice knocked Lyons out of her stupor, but left her speechless, still. Before Lyons could move, Violet advanced. She pulled Lyons against her, metal and all. Their lips met and Violet grasped at Lyons' wrists in a show of dominance.

But Lyons was stronger.

Twisting her wrists out of Violet's hands, Lyons grabbed one of the girl's breasts and enclosed another on the back of the girl's neck. Pain shot through Lyons' lip as Violet bit down. The girl released a giggle as her eyes dared Lyons to retaliate. Lyons clutched a fistful of hair and yanked down, exposing Violet's pretty neck. Lyons eyed the junction between neck and shoulder and sank her teeth into her. She tasted of iron and grime and sweat.

She tasted bitter.

Violet moaned to the ceiling before remembering the presence of her own strength. She pushed against Lyons, surprising the blonde, and sent her reeling.

The women rushed in a tangle of limbs to the left, disappearing from sight.

"Dammit," Lyons hissed as her vicarious experience came to a screeching halt. She lowered her binoculars, cursing their new nest under her breath.

"If you hadn't of fucked up, we'd still be in the other spot," came Dusk's low growl, jabbing, "and you'd still be able to see -"

"Oh, shut it." The blonde threw the binoculars at her partner, thankful Dusk could not see the red of embarrassment beneath her helmet. She pushed herself off the ground and stalked towards her corner in the room. Dusk's snickering flooded boiling rage into the small of Lyons' back. "Dusk, I swear -"

"Hey, hey, hey."

"Don't 'hey, hey, hey' me!"

Dusk pointed at the concrete building. "Your girlfriend's got company."

In a flurry of movement, Lyons snatched the binoculars away. Her eyes moved to Violet and Pinky's window, the pair of women were laying together on an ancient mattress.

"The stairs."

At Dusk's prompting, Lyons veered to the right. A bald head disappeared behind a slab of column. "It's Violet's lover. The man."

"Oh- _ho_! He's not going to like this!"

Lyons ignored her partner's cachinnation. The man appeared at another window, a confused look on his face, as if he just heard the commotion above him. "Get the sniper ready."

Dusk was still laughing. "What?"

"Get it ready, Dusk!" Baldy charged up the stairs.

"Why?"

Baldy stormed into Violet and Pinky's window. His face contorted in rage. Spittle flew from his mouth as the women pulled away from each other. He pointed fingers, accusing, at both women. Violet jumped in front of him, shoving her face into his and started screaming, her face turning a deep red. He grasped Violet's jaw and continued to spit and bark at the woman. One of Violet's legs flew up between his as Pinky smashed a fist into his face.

The man reeled backwards at the assault of the women. He opened his mouth but was met with another kick, this time, to the mouth. He fell back in a stupor, scraping bare skin into the concrete floor. But the women did not celebrate.

They stood beside one another, staring down the man. Pinky turned her head to Violet. It was her turn to speak. Pinky jerked her head this way and that as she spoke, pointing fingers between her lover and the man on the floor.

Violet shook her head again and again and again. She reached out, trying to hold the taller girl's arms. But Pinky denied her. She shoved Violet away. Something glistened on Pinky's face. It covered her cheeks in lines. She was crying.

As they argued, Baldy stood back up... this time, he had a drum-magazine shotgun. Lyons' heart stopped. A chill engulfed her entire body. The girls didn't see him. He raised his weapon.

"Dusk."

"What the fuck's going on -"

 _TA-BANGG!_ Baldy pivoted, before shooting Pinky too.

"Did he just -"

"He killed them," Lyons breathed, before fury engulfed her. "He killed both of them!"

He repeated the action, cock, fire, cock, fire, again and again until blood painted his bare chest.

"Get the sniper, Dusk."

"No way."

Lyons snapped her head around to stare at her partner. "And why not!?"

"It's none of our business."

"He just shot -"

Dusk repeated her statement, "It's none of our _business_. So what if a couple of raiders die due to some, some... lover's quarrel? Huh? It's not _our_ job to bring justice."

Lyons eyed the sniper rifle. "Maybe it should be."

A hand shoved her away. "Don't even think about it. You wanna throw away your field position for some raider _whore_?"

"She was _not_ a -"

"Oh _yeah_ , she _was_. You saw it yourself. She screwed Pinky. She screwed _that_ guy."

 _She's right._ Lyons' nose wrinkled. _How many other people had she fucked?_

"And you know what she got in return? _She_ got screwed. And that'll happen to you too, if you don't stay in line."

"Is that a threat?"

"It's a warning, Lyons. I'm not about to have you ruin our chances of a combat position, not when we've come _this_ far! Do you want to be a breeder? Huh? Do _you_ want to get screwed? _Literally?_ "

Grimacing, Lyons swallowed the salt pouring into her mouth. "No."

"Didn't think so." She picked up the radio. "Now comes the question, Lyons. Are you gonna do that again? Huh? Are you gonna get attached to the next pretty raider to walk in here? Are you gonna get all worked-up for some good-for-nothing wastelander? We're not here for 'justice', Lyons. We're here to protect our people over at GNR. And if you can't do that, then I can't have you as my spotter."

Lyons clenched her fists. "You're going to throw me to the mirelurks, then, is that it!?"

"No," Dusk jutted out her chin. "You're my best friend. But I can't work with you. I'm going to request an exchange. Once it gets approved, _you_ request for a front lines position."

"Father would never -"

"If he doesn't grant it to you, it'll be a clear sign of favoritism. He can't protect his little girl forever."

The blonde lowered her voice, eyes narrowed at her friend, "You've given this some thought."

"Ever since I noticed your... _eagerness_ whenever those girls came around." Lyons opened her mouth to defend herself, but Dusk continued, "You've never asked me to do anything to you, or made me uncomfortable... So _what_ if you... like... women?"

With a start, Lyons realized Dusk was right. Why did she stare at Violet? Why was she so eager to see her and Pinky's escapades? Why did she imagine _doing_ things to Violet? There was only one logical explanation. Once more, Lyons was thankful for her helmet. But the rhetorical question had a certain inflection, a pang of betrayal the speaker felt. _It's not like I've known forever. I mean,_ I _just found out..._

 _"_ It really doesn't matter to me, Lyons. And you can bet your ass I won't squeal."

It was dangerous. If anyone discovered her preference, the Elder's daughter would be ostracized, demonized... and her father's position compromised. None in the Brotherhood were branded as homosexuals, but Lyons had heard some of the Knights in the field reference raiders and wastelanders they had encountered: _"Perverts." "Deviants." "Queers." "Dykes." I would be one of them._

She didn't know what would become of her, whether it be thrown out into the Wastes, isolated, or executed. _They wouldn't kill the Elder's daughter, would they?... No, it'd be a waste of an able-bodied woman._ The blonde shuddered in revulsion at the thought of becoming a breeder: being stripped away of her combat position, becoming a scribe, having to plink away at terminals all day long, having to pick a male partner to engage in intercourse with.

Lyons' voice was little more than a whisper, "How can I trust you?"

"If I out you, they'll ask how I know. Even if they don't, _you've_ heard the shit they say about us. I'll never live it down: either I turned the Elder's daughter gay, or I like getting fucked by the Elder's daughter. My position will be called into question: can I really fight, or is the Elder's daughter putting in a good word for me? Believe you, me, Lyons, this is _not_ exactly an ideal position for me..." She chuckled, becoming aware of the words she had used, before continuing, "You can stare at Vallincourt all you want, but there's no way I'm going into the showers when you're around!" Hearing the smile on her friend's lips, Lyons released the breath she had been holding.

Dusk turned on the radio. "Besides, back to your father protecting you, I heard Cross is back in commission. She got a new face and some shiny cyber-implants."

 _Great, I'll have my babysitter again._

"So, what's it gonna be, Lyons? I can't work with you, and you need a place where you can kick some ass, not waste away staring at concrete all day. Should I call it?"

Lyons nodded, turning towards the concrete building. Baldy was nowhere to be seen, the only evidence of his presence was the red-spattered concrete. _Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll get to kick some Baldy ass._

"Dawn to Cardinal. Dawn to Cardinal. Over."

 _I'm not giving up my dreams for a wastelander._

 _"Go ahead, Dawn. Over."_

 _I've come too far to turn back._

"Request for extraction. Over."

 _I'm not going down for a raider._

 _"On what grounds? Over."_

 _They're all dirt-covered, bitter-tasting cheats._

"Request for mission transfer. Over."

 _I'm not going down for a whore._

* * *

 ** _I don't know where all the Brotherhood women go, in fact, (after an analysis of the gender ratios in Fallout 3) there is a clear gap in the ratio (we should expect to see a 49:51 women to men ratio, if not 1:1 for gender equality, instead, we are seeing 7:26 in the BoS and 13:21 in Rivet City). Upon further reflection, this is probably a game design flaw on Bethesda's part (thanks for misrepresenting us_ again _game devs, it's not like we're 50% of the population)._**

 ** _We see evidence within the Mojave Chapter of most members believing it is their duty to procreate (since they're kinda xenophobic, as a note, their ratio is 5:16 women to men)._**

 ** _As a note, in regards to the numbers above, I have not included un-named characters, nor have I included cut content or mentioned-only characters. It would be impossible to determine someone's sex based on their last name only._**

 ** _We also see how same-sex relationships are a big no-no; although, it is nearly impossible to determine if members are shunned due to their sexual orientation or their association with crazy-ass mofo's._**

 ** _SPOILER Veronica :( END SPOILER!_**

 ** _For our purposes, (within the BoS) I am assuming combat-capable women are exempt from making babies (you don't get a period if you have less than a certain percentage of body weight, and you have to be operating at a certain physical condition in order to keep up with the muties ~ little/no body fat or working out super hard + low caloric intake == no menstruation == no babies == no exceptions). Female athletes, when competing at certain levels, will lose their periods (and can break their hymens). This is purely physical stuff as well, not to mention the effects stress has on a woman's cycle (can miss periods or be late)._**

 _ **Thus, from this moment on, I will assume scribes and other non-combat female personnel are required to procreate. Sarah will just use a derogatory term for them (e.g. "breeders").**_

 _ **I've updated the necessary chapters in order to reflect this view.**_

 ** _Hope you all enjoyed it! See you next time!_**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note:** _Hi everyone! I know, I know, it's been FOREVER. Sorry about that, been dealing with a breakup and, now, a fledgling relationship. But it's all good now and I need to write._

 _As a way for me to say, "I'm sorry", a thousand times over (or four times, at least), I'm going to be publishing a chapter for WaW every day from Wednesday the 13th (today) to Sunday the 17th. Think of it as my Valentine's Day present to you :)_

 _It's short, but I don't want to bore you guys with filler._

* * *

 _ **WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS FEMALE-FEMALE SEXUAL RELATIONS!**_

* * *

"Sit down, Amata." The Overseer stared out the large porthole in his office. He did not turn to even look at his daughter.

Obeying her father, Amata placed her now-folded hands in her lap. The eighteen-year-old had just returned from her yearly physical with James... and her father-even now, he attended the _only_ instance where Amata stripped herself bare for a man. Once they arrived at the office, the Overseer called her in and shut the door.

The raven-haired young woman waited a good six minutes before the Overseer found his voice. "With what values have I raised you with?"

Amata blinked. As her mind worked to anticipate his response, the answer to his first question rolled off her tongue, "You've always told me to be honest and hard-working and an ideal member of the Vault."

He did not move. He stood, back to his daughter, hands clasped together behind and just above his tailbone. "Did I raise you to have _round heels_?"

Blushing at the insult, Amata killed the tension rising in her shoulders. "Daddy, I would _never_ -"

"Don't lie to me, Amata." The Overseer turned to face his daughter. His face, a glaring, cement wall. "James told me your hymen is broken. Who is it?"

God was good, he didn't know. But the young woman didn't show any sign of relief. She sat still, staring in silence.

" _Who_ is it?"

She wouldn't say. Not yet. Not _ever_.

"WHO IS IT!?"

"Wally!" She blurted. He was clever, but just the right amount of stupid.

Her father blinked in surprise. "Wally _Mack_?"

Amata jumped on the opportunity. "Daddy, please -"

"My _daughter_ is getting..." His nose wrinkled and his lip curled up in disgust. "By _Wally Mack_!?"

"Daddy, you can't do anything to him! You _can't_!"

"And _why_ not!? If he and his little gang think they can get away with -"

"Daddy, you don't understand! I _love_ him!" Bile coated her tongue at the words flowing out of her mouth.

The Overseer scoffed, "'Love'. Your generation doesn't know what that is. See how Christine opens her legs to everything with three legs? _That's_ what you all think 'love' is."

"I'm _not_ like Christine!" She wasn't. Alice was the only one for her.

Her father sat on the edge of his desk, facing her. "Amata, you must understand." Hazel met hazel. "I just want what's best for you." And the Vault.

"I'm with a man-"

"Yes. You are. Do you realize what kind of responsibility that puts on you?" His anger left him. Amata suspected it had stemmed from his lap dog not informing the Overseer that he was also fucking his daughter. Amata would have to change that.

"It's nothing I didn't have before!" That was all her father wanted her to do: breed.

"Then we are at an understanding. Good." He stood and pressed a button on his desk, "Wally Mack to the Overseer's Office." The Overseer waved a hand in dismissal. "We're done here."

As Amata passed by her pretend lover on the stair, she gave him a look. That was all he needed. Alice was safe, for now.

She let herself into the apartment, securing the doors as she strode into the bedroom. Amata didn't turn on the light. She didn't want to wake the dreaming dime. Not yet.

The sole inhabitant of the apartment didn't stir as Amata slid beneath the covers and pressed herself against the soft, searing, sleeping form. The Overseer's daughter ran her hands over the woman's bare skin. Alice never wore anything to bed and her beautiful body was free for Amata to explore. Soft mounds of flesh peaked with tiny, suckable rounds. Hard muscles hovered just above the tender tissue Amata craved each day and night. God, even _now_ she was _wet_! Pushing a finger inside, Amata shivered at the warm, slick nest around her. She took a whiff of the woman's hair. _Butch's_ hair. Roses. Intoxicating. But it belong to _him_. Alice didn't oil it up or curl it like _him_ anymore, but it was still short. The oven beneath the covers coaxed beads of sweat out of Amata's neck. Alice was always _hot_. Amata smiled and slid her tongue over the woman's outer ear.

A chuckle broke the spell. "You're _awake_!?"

Alice looked over her shoulder. "I told you, silly. I always wake up a few minutes before somebody wakes me."

"But I didn't tell you I was coming."

"You'd show up eventually."

Glancing at the clock, Amata inquired, "So you haven't slept?"

"Of course I slept, silly. I told you! My body just wakes up right before."

Amata decided to drop the subject. There were more important things. "My dad knows I'm not a virgin."

That shot Alice up into a sitting position. "What!?"

"Yeah. He doesn't know it's you. I said it was Wally." The cinnamon-eyed girl groaned. "I know. But I had to say something! And it's only a matter of time that _your_ dad confronts you about it too."

"What? Why?"

"One, your physical is coming up. Two, if your dad knows _I'm_ having sex, don't you think he'd think _my_ best friend was having sex too?"

Silence.

"So we've gotta come up with -"

"My dad already knows about us."

A blade of ice ran down Amata's spine. "H-He does?"

"I told him."

"WHY!?" Just the thought of James knowing about her and Alice-about _what they did_ _together_ -it sent Amata's heart racing in a scampering panic.

"He was going to find out anyway! You don't think he ever _wondered_ how I'd ever make babies with a guy-" Amata almost emptied the contents of her stomach onto Alice's bed. "when all I did was beat them up? You don't think he tried talking to me about getting a boyfriend and-"

"That's exactly what you need to do."

"What!?"

"Get a boyfriend."

"WHAT!?"

Amata grimaced. " _Butch_ likes you. He would do."

"Eww. _Gross_. He's just a friend." Amata thanked the darkness for hiding her curled lip. "Besides, you don't like him. Why do I even _need_ a boyfriend? My dad already knows about me-"

"You're going to have to get one anyway."

"Why? Because I have to make babies?"

"You know you do."

"I would _never_ be with _any_ of those guys. I _don't care_ what they say about me."

That was Amata's in. "But what about what they say about me?" She paused, letting it sink in for a moment. "I'm going to be Overseer one day. The Macks want as much power as they can get their hands on. That's why I'm _officially_ with Wally. An alliance might quell their thirst for now, but what about when I run? Everyone knows you and I are super close. If they see you and see how you're not with any of the guys, they'll start talking about you. And then they'll start talking about me. I won't get to be Overseer, no matter how many Mack boys I screw or how many babies I pop out, and one of _them_ will be Overseer instead. We can't risk it, Alice."

Alice buried her face in her pillow and sighed. The pair of women laid together for several minutes before she spoke again. "You really think Butch...?"

"Yes."

She groaned again.

"It won't be for long. Just enough time for them to think you and Butch are _together_ together. Then we can go back to the way things were."

Looking back over her shoulder, Alice asked, "Promise?"

"I promise."

She smiled, turned fully around and presented her breasts to the Overseer's daughter, and kissed her.

"I don't want to lose you." Amata wrapped a leg around Alice's waist and suckled at a pert nipple.

Alice whimpered as her hips bucked into Amata. "I-Me neither." She pulled at Amata's hair, just the way she liked it.

* * *

 _ **One down, four to go!**_

 _ **Happy (early) Valentine's Day!**_

 _ **If you're single, sad, and/or heartbroken, I promise you, it'll get better. There's somebody out there who will love you for who you are and will make you the happiest you've ever been. Don't give up. Keep your head up. Live. And just go for it! Because you're amazing!**_

 _ **If you have somebody, I hope they continue to make you the happiest person in the universe and fill your stomach up with flaming butterflies! (I don't know, that's just how it feels for me)  
**_

 _ **Thanks for reading! I'll see you all tomorrow!**_


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:** _Hi everyone, here's (yester)day's chapter!_

* * *

The world was silent.

She stared up at the spinning, crumbling ceiling, blinking as particles of dust and concrete speckled her face and bounced off her eye slots. A spectacular show of red and green lights zoomed above her in perfect, horizontal lines. Iron and must and fecal matter filled her nostrils. Sweat dripped down her arms and legs and neck, even though it must have been-at most- 40 degrees outside. Those goddamned power armor suits were fucking nuclear reactors. She had heard some of them were so bad, they had fans at the back.

That's when the screaming started.

To be fair, a CZ53 personal minigun couldn't exactly scream, per se... but its wielder definitely could.

And, boy, did he _scream_. Mainly, it was incoherent obscenities. But, once in a while, an identifiable word would filter out of the flood. "OWWIE!", "STUPID!", and "HUMIE!" were the most prevalent.

"Lyons!" Cross's dark eyes stabbed into blue. Patches of pale skin revealed where the scribes had grafted on the new additions: a variety of augmentations to her cerebral cortex, occipital lobes, nasal cavity, and a radio where her temple had been smashed in. "We need to move, _now_!" She pulled Lyons up into a sitting position. Parts of Lyons's spine popped and snapped back into place. "Can you walk?" The cybernetic-enhanced woman crouched, unmoving, even as a chunk of concrete flew past her face.

Maybe it didn't matter anymore, once you had lost half of your skin there.

The deep-cutting pain in Lyons's thighs and shoulders gave a distinct and unanimous, "No." But she herself said, "Yes." Pushing herself up, she attempted to stand. Black spots fluttered in up and down motions behind her eyes. Darkness filled her vision as she careened forward.

Cross slammed her against a wall as a flurry of red burst out. "What are you _doing_!?"

Blinking herself back into reality, Lyons explained, "You said we needed to-"

"In _cover_ , you idiot!" Dragging Lyons to the ground, Cross picked her way through the firefight in the hospital. Lyons followed close behind, keeping her head low to avoid the storm of bullets.

Dusk had been right. Her father couldn't shield her from everything forever. One call was all it took to get Lyons transferred to a combat position. The next day, she was on raider detail with Tristan's squads.

She hadn't expected her first, true combat mission to be like this. Blood and lasers and explosions were to be expected, and she had anticipated her father would have sent them to one of the most terrifying spots in D.C. just to scare his daughter enough to convince her to stay in a non-combat role.

But the Super Mutants were another thing entirely.

The pair passed over one. Its muscles bulged out of its form, threatening to break free from its green-skinned prison. Blood and pus alike oozed upon its skin in blotches. As blood pooled and settled and festered within its body, the mutant's pigment shifted from that of algae to one similar to that of a mutfruit. Even though its muscles had not settled into the stiff tension of rigor mortis, its lips still curled over its chipped, yellow teeth. A snarling scowl, even in death.

Lyons collided with a wall of steel. "Watch yourself, Lyons," Cross barked before vaulting over a half-broken wall and into the safety of the nest Vargas and Tristan had dug out for themselves.

Thundering footsteps rattled the specks of rubble around her. A weight pressed into her left shoulder before her feet dangled in midair. " _FOUND_ YOU," the Super Mutant shouted in triumph.

One moment later and Lyons returned to the arms of her new best friend: the wall.

This time, it resulted in her staring at the floor, rather than the ceiling.

This time, Lyons ignored the tight bands of pain wrapped around her limbs and sprang into a crouch. She spied her rifle, several feet away. Pounding footsteps returned and she came face to face with a sledgehammer. Tumble to the left. Shoulder up. _THUD_!

The force of the impact knocked her back to the ground. She clutched at her right shoulder, praying her arm had not, in fact, fallen out of its socket or gushed blood down to her hand.

Something clattered beneath her dead hand. The AER9's muzzle winked mischief in the sunlight.

Fingers found strength. Grasped the laser rifle. Sledgehammer raised. Trigger squeezed. Red mist.

The sledgehammer fell from the mutant's grasp, bouncing off of Lyons's chest and forcing the breath from her lungs. Without sufficient energy to keep itself standing, the mutant crumpled to the ground, dead.

Shouting and lasers and grenade blasts ceased in the room, but echoed down from the upper levels.

Cross grasped Lyons by her right armpit. "On your feet, soldier." She locked eyes with her charge but said nothing. _Maybe now she realizes I can take care of myself._ "You are injured." The older woman pointed to where Lyons's armor caved in. Two injections of stimpaks later and Lyons was right as rain. _Or not._

"Cross, Lyons, let's move out! Squad Two is engaging the enemy on the fourth floor!" Tristan jammed a fresh microfusion cell into his rifle's slot.

"Yes, sir."

"And keep your damned rifle at the ready. This ain't a picnic." He took the stairs two at a time.

Lyons grit her teeth, but kept her voice steady. "Yes, sir." It wasn't her fault Super Mutants decided to show up _just_ when it was her first combat mission. It wasn't her fault they didn't take down the Super Mutant before she was thrown by _two separate ones_! _I'm doing the best I can, dammit!_

She followed Cross and Tristan, holding her rifle up and ready to fire at the next green-skinned mutant.

"Hey." A hand nudged her shoulder. Vargas. "You're doin' good. Don't be discouraged. Just keep your head down and follow orders, you hear?"

Nodding, Lyons muttered to herself, "The hell do you think I've been doing?"

* * *

 _ **Happy Valentine's Day!**_

 _ **Thanks for reading! I'll see you all later today!**_


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note:** _Hi everyone! Sorry for the late chapter, next one will come up tonight._

* * *

 _ **WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MALE-FEMALE SEXUAL RELATIONS!**_

* * *

Amata hadn't anticipated how convincing Alice could be.

But watching Butch wrap his arm around the brunette and press his greasy lips to Alice's over and over and over again prevented Amata from eating a single bite of her lunch. Her mouth twisted into a grimace as she recalled watching his small, fat-fingered hands grope over Alice's jumpsuit and grasp her breasts. Alice's gasps and moans only stoked the bonfire in Amata's stomach.

She should have been moaning for _her_.

After her shift in the Overseer's office, Amata made her way down to Alice's apartment. They couldn't afford to have their cover blown just yet, but perhaps Alice could have been a bit more discreet?

The moaning in Alice's bedroom said otherwise.

Entering the room, Amata's throat sank into her stomach. A bare-skinned back was the first thing she saw, then, their legs intertwined. Butch had Alice's wrists pinned above her head. The snake sank his fangs into Alice's neck. His other hand fumbled at Alice's folds. She pressed her breasts up into his hairy chest. Her breaths came in short, deep gasps. A smile crossed over her lips. Her cinnamon eyes rolled up into the back of her head. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth. Hips bucked up against his stomach. His ugly, little snake hovered outside of her entrance.

Heat poured over Amata's skin. Her fingers extended out from her hands. She'd scratch those eyes from their sockets. But then Butch would forever have Alice's body imprinted on his mind. She found herself as she had been every time the Tunnel Snakes confronted her: feet planted into the ground, her body refusing to move.

Cinnamon eyes snapped open. Red bloomed over her cheeks. "Amata!"

The snake jerked up and narrowed his eyes at Amata's girlfriend. "'Amata'?" He followed Alice's gaze. Hazel eyes melted ice. His face hardened. "Get the fuck outta here, you wet rag!"

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing!?" Amata stamped her foot.

"I'm about to have sex with my _girlfriend_. What the fuck do you _think_ I'm doing?"

"Butch, wait -" The snake's finger slipped into Alice and she was silenced by her own moan.

"Good girl." The phrase-Amata's special name-sent another moan spilling out. "If you're not going to join us, get the fuck out."

Amata slouched against the dining room wall, feeling her face heat up from the lovers in the other room.

"Oh, you like that, baby?"

"OHH! _Butch_! Th-that's that's!"

"Are you ready?"

"Oh! Oh! Wha-wha-? AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH! WAIT! WAIT! TOO! T-TOO MUCH!"

"Okay, okay. It's okay. Better?"

"Unh-unh y-yes! Oh! YES! Just like that! J-Just j-just! Yes!"

"Oh! ALICE!"

"AH! Wha-what? What is-? What is-?"

"I..." he gasped. "I came."

"Oh... okay... can... can you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, of course." Butch stumbled out of the bedroom, his penis standing at attention. When he caught sight of Amata, he glared. "You're still here?"

Amata wrinkled her nose. She kept her hands folded under her arms. She would not rip off his face. "You came in five seconds?"

He shrugged. "She's good." He disappeared into the bathroom and came out with a handful of toilet paper. " _Tight_. _Hot_. _Wet_. _Sexy_." Amata heard her teeth squeak as he returned to _her_ lover.

"What-what was that about?" Alice's voice.

"Bitchy Amata's still here."

"She is?"

"Yeah."

A slap. " _Don't_ call her that!"

"She is!"

"She's my best friend. And if you want _more_ , you'll respect that. Are we clear?"

"I'll show you what's 'clear'."

"AH! _Butch_! Ahah hahahahaha! STOP!" The snake chucked. After a few minutes of silence, Alice muttered. "I have to go."

"Not yet."

" _Yes_ , yet."

"Ugh."

"I know."

"...I don't want you to go."

"I have to."

He sighed. "Alright." Clothes shuffled around. "When do I see you again?"

"See me or _see_ me?" Amata imagined the sly smile on Alice's lips. The smile reserved only for _her_.

" _Both_." Lips smacked together.

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." He sauntered out of the apartment, but not before he gave a smug smile to Amata.

As soon as the door closed, Amata stormed into the bedroom. Alice stared up at the ceiling, her body shimmering with sweat. "Before you say anything-"

"I _told you_ to be his girlfriend. I _didn't tell you_ to sleep with him!" Amata pointed at Alice's dripping pussy.

Alice sat up. "You told me we needed to be convincing."

"That doesn't mean you should get pregnant!"

"I'm not going to get pregnant."

"He came in you!"

"No he didn't. I touched him with my hand. He never went in."

"That's _not_ what I heard."

Alice stared at a wet spot on her bed. "He has bigger fingers than you. He stretched me pretty wide." She pointed to her neck. "He came on my neck. Look." Closing the distance between them, Amata stared at her lover's throat. The flaky white specks reminded Amata of the remnants of dried glue. Alice caressed Amata's cheek. "I'm trying to protect us. But I won't do anything stupid. I have to convince him we _could_ have a future." The thought of Alice, pregnant, and married to Butch made Amata flinch.

Amata didn't like it, but it made sense. That was when she spotted the hickey on Alice's neck. Alice belonged to _her_. Alice moaned for _her._ Alice came for _her_. _Not_ Butch. _Not_ some _man_. "I want you to break up with him."

She was silent for a long time. "This early?"

"You like him?"

"No." Fast response. Too fast? "I love _you_."

"Then say it's because he came too early. You need someone who can keep up with you."

Alice nodded and wrapped her arms around Amata. "I'm sorry you had to see that..." _You could've told me you were going to bed him_. "I hadn't expected him to..." _He's a guy. You know how he looks at you_. "We were kissing and then..." _You opened up like a present._ "He was playing with my breasts..." _You could've pushed him away._ "His hand went..." _You could've said, "No."_ "I'm sorry." _Are you?_ "I love you." _Do you?_ "You know that." _Do I?_ "I didn't like it either." _Could've fooled me._ "But, after this, we shouldn't need to worry about my reputation." She squeezed Amata.

The Overseer's daughter understood.

Amata would have to do the same with Wally.

* * *

 _ **Thanks for reading! See you later!**_


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note:** _Hi everyone! Here's the next chapter (on time)! Sorry for these last few being so short, I don't want to give you guys filler. I anticipate the next chapter to be much longer._

* * *

"Hey," the dirt-covered man rasped, "can I get some water?" He leaned against the sun-baked metal. Burns ripped up his skin. He extended a needle-punctured arm up in plea.

The blonde adjusted her jacket. She had no use for junkie beggars. "You're by a river."

"You want me to drink that _irradiated_ shit?"

"If you pop some RadAway like you normally do, it won't be a problem."

"You're-" The sentinel's sleeted stare silenced the sleazy street rat.

"Let's move!" She called, pounding down the metal stairs and rejoining her team. Within the rusted walls of the aircraft carrier, Dr. Li conducted experiments with Pre-War tech. The Elder would want to hear the details, especially with how close the cache was to the Citadel. Rivet City was just across the river.

Lyons's team jogged in silence as they made their way back. They were the best the Brotherhood could offer, and she expected no less from them. Even if she had condemned a wastelander to his fate. They weren't here to save individuals. They were here to clear out the mutants and make D.C. safe. Or, at least, as safe as it could be.

Someone else could take care of the people. Hell, they should have been able to take care of themselves. It was called the Capital _Wasteland_ for a reason. They weren't in some magical Vault.

When they returned to the Citadel, the Elder called a meeting.

The officers assembled in the musty, dusty room, and Elder Lyons began, "Lyons's Pride has just delivered some interesting developments, regarding Dr. Madison Li and her science team. They are attempting to grow radiation-free produce, using Pre-War technology."

Paladin Casdin spoke up. "Why wasn't this reported before?"

"It _was_ reported, nineteen years ago, when Dr. Li moved to Rivet City." Rothchild wiped sweat from his brow. "We hadn't anticipated the amount of technology they had managed to gather, until Sentinel Lyons overheard a rumor about her experiments."

"Rumors often have humble beginnings. How do we know this is accurate?" Jameson added.

"I've seen it." All eyes settled on Sentinel Lyons.

"They'd _never_ let one of us into their science lab," Paladin Bael scoffed.

Lyons explained, "That's why I didn't go in as one of us. I posed as a wastelander."

"You went in, _undercover_?" McGraw raised an eyebrow.

"Sentinel Lyons," her father sighed, "That is not our way."

Squaring her shoulders, the young woman bit back the defiance threatening to lace her voice. "If subterfuge is what it takes to gather intel, then I will do what is necessary."

"Regardless," Casdin continued, "We _cannot_ let this development proceed. We _must_ take action."

Elder Lyons narrowed his eyes. "What do you suggest, Paladin? That we storm Rivet City and take their technology by force? A larger threat looms over the Capital Wasteland. The super mutants do not care about who has what technology. They only crave human blood."

"And when did it become _our_ responsibility to _protect_ those who cannot protect themselves? Is it written in the Codex to protect them?" Murmurs of approval sounded around the table at Casdin's words.

It was true. It wasn't written in the Codex. Hunting down super mutants and protecting others would not have been a priority to the Brotherhood of old. Her father's leadership had changed that. And not everyone agreed with such developments.

"Before we can even _consider_ gathering Pre-War technology from this city, we _must_ secure it. If not for the innocents, then for our people. Super mutants have slain more knights than raiders have."

Casdin was not taking it. "We can clear out the areas that have the highest probability of containing Pre-War tech-"

"And risk an ambush on our teams? No. Our numbers are few enough as it is."

"We can bolster our numbers with wastelander recruits." Vargas offered. A chorus of no's filled the room.

Sentinel Lyons shook her head. "Wastelanders do not understand our mission. They _cannot_. If they are unable to understand what we stand for, how, then, can we trust them to fight for us? To watch our backs?"

"We need more boots on the ground. Whether it's to gather tech or kill Frankensteins, we need more people."

"We understand, Vargas," Elder Lyons explained, "But the issue still stands: we must continue our current mission. We must secure D.C."

"To what end!?" Casdin's outburst silenced the room. "We lose more and more men every. Single. Day. Protecting those who _do not deserve_ our strength. We have our mission. They have theirs. Survive. We cannot save them."

And he was right. Lyons knew it, even if her father didn't. Saving wastelanders was pointless. For every one they saved, the Brotherhood found three others in a ditch. Most would have needles or pills in their pockets. Others had their bones picked clean. And dogs and super mutants didn't build cooking fires. They were filthy. Disgusting. Abhorrent. Depraved. Deranged.

They weren't worth the Brotherhood's time.

"We must _try_ , Paladin Casdin," Elder Lyons insisted. "We cannot complete our mission without the support of the people."

Casdin jabbed his finger into the table. "And whose mission is that, I wonder? The Brotherhood of Steel's? Or Outcast Lyons?"

Shouts of protest sounded across the room. Elder Lyons's voice rose above the rest. "Careful, Casdin. You're _this close_ to getting court-martialed."

"If it would mean I wouldn't have to protect useless, sacks of _shit_ , then count me in!"

Elder Lyons threw Casdin out of the war room that day. But he didn't execute him. The Brotherhood had few enough members already, they couldn't afford losing another person. They needed solidarity. A night in solitary would do Casdin well.

But Elder Lyons hadn't anticipated he would sneak off in the night with half of their tech and half of their scribes and knights.

Once morning came, Elder Lyons issued a new order: "When asked by a local if the Brotherhood of Steel is seeking new recruits, all members are required to answer in the affirmative and direct them to the Citadel for further instruction."

* * *

 _ **In regards to the water beggar, I'm referencing how-in Fallout and Fallout 2-RadAway was addictive.**_

 _ **Thanks for reading! I'll see you tomorrow!**_


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note:** _Hi everybody! Thanks for sticking with me so far, I'm estimating I have about 26 more chapters to go with this first story._

 _From here on out, I'm going to be pushing hard to get a chapter out every Sunday. Thanks again, and here's this week's chapter!_

 _I didn't want to do a carbon copy of what I did in my previous instance of this story, but if you all prefer that one, I can definitely add it to this chapter._

* * *

"...I love you. Don't you ever forget that." Amata clicked the holotape out of her Pip-Boy and held it tight to her chest. An alarm blared and flashes of yellow pierced her vision. As she rounded the corner and entered the Vault entrance, a horrible screeching and grinding threatened to rupture her eardrums. She stumbled forward, pressing her hands to her ears, the holotape still in her hand. Two familiar arms found her and pulled her close as the world opened up. The Vault door rolled to the side, revealing a long tunnel leading to the irradiated wasteland outside. At the far end, spears of light peaked through. "Oh my God," Amata breathed. "You actually did it."

"I told you I would." Alice held her even closer, as if she could somehow meld their two bodies together through the sheer strength of her muscles. "I'm going to find my dad. And when I come back, I'm going to kill that motherfucker for hurting you."

Amata shook her head. "No. He's _my_ father."

"No father would hurt their child like that."

 _That's why he's my "father" and not my_ dad. "It is what it is."

"Come with me." Her voice came out as a breath, tickling Amata's neck. "I'll protect you. We'll find my dad and we'll make things right."

Amata shook her head. "I can't."

Alice pulled her closer. "Why not?" Her voice trembled. Warm streaks dripped down Alice's cheeks and dampened Amata's face.

"I just _can't_. Someone has to calm everything down here and prepare them for your return." It wasn't a lie.

"Someone else can do it. It doesn't have to be _you_."

"It _does_."

Alice jerked Amata away. Her face was hard. "Stubborn." But cinnamon eyes swam in a sea of uncertainty and fear and passion.

"So are you." She handed the duffel bag over. "This is for you. I've packed enough food and water and clothes to last you a week."

"I should be back by then." Alice slung it across her back. Jutting her chin out, she asked, "What's that?"

Amata pressed the holotape to her lover's hand. " _This_ is my love for you. Listen to it. Hear my voice. It'll be like I never left you."

Thumbing the edge, Alice snorted. "I don't think you managed to think up of a conversation to record... among other things." Her eyes flashed with that dirty "fuck me" look Amata loved.

The Overseer's daughter blushed. "No. But I'll be saving that for when you return."

Alice smiled and leaned in for a kiss. Then, she stopped. "What will it be like when I get back? Will we be able to...?"

As much as she wanted otherwise, Amata shook her head. "It's still our duty to further the Vault's population."

Pointing with her chin to the tunnel, Alice suggested, "If he went outside, he must have a plan. There must be _something_ out there... Why else would he leave...?" Her lower lip quivered and her eyes pleaded for reassurance.

Amata held Alice's chin up. "Hey. We'll get through this. I promise." Sniffling, Alice nodded and pressed her lips to Amata's. She tasted sweet, even with the salty tang of her tears and Amata still lapped them up. Her tongue touched Alice's and the pair swirled around each other, flicking and teasing one another. "I love you, Alice," she sighed between kisses, "I love you." She didn't hear the response, only men's voices.

Her father's men.

"Go. _Now_!"

Alice didn't need to be told twice. Vaulting over the metal handrail, she sprinted through the opening. As soon as she was clear, Amata pushed the lever and slammed the button. Hands grabbed at her arms and threw her to the ground, but the door was closing. Officers Park and Wolfe brandished their pistols.

" _No_!" Amata sprang to her feet and tackled Park. She may not have been strong, but the attack caught the security officer by surprise. And when the officers realized their quarry had escaped, they grabbed fistfuls of Amata's hair and dragged her back to the Overseer.

They threw her at his feet.

"Thank you, officers. You're dismissed. I need to have a little _chat_ with my daughter." When the door locked, the Overseer strode around the young woman. "What did I do to garner such _insolence_?"

Amata remained silent and sat in front of the monster who had supplied the sperm for her birth. She stared at the stain on the ground where they had beaten Jonas. Watched how the blood still crept towards the desk. James would never do something so cruel. So inhumane. So horrific. James would have understood. James would have cared.

The Overseer continued, "You do realize what I have to do, Amata? These... _feelings_ you harbor towards your friend have been nothing but _destructive_. Look at how _they_ have _corrupted_ you. I _knew_ it was a mistake to let them in."

 _"Let them in", what does that mean?_

"You have an _unnatural_ attachment towards her. You have allowed her to manipulate your emotions, to let her press her _filthy_ lips to your body. You aided a _traitor_ , a _mongrel_ in escaping. You gave her the means to _kill_ five of _us_ : Officer Kendall, Officer O'Brian, Officer Richards, Officer Mack, Security Chief Hannon. You _refused_ to give us any _information_ about her whereabouts and endangered the life of the Overseer, _my_ life. You attacked Officers Park and Wolfe. Is this behavior _worthy_ of an Overseer? I think not. So what should we do about this, hmm? Such a scandal. It definitely hurts your chances of being leader of the Vault. And I must _punish_ you. Such behavior will not be tolerated, not even from my own blood! Officer Wolfe!"

"Yes, sir?"

"Escort my daughter to her room. She is _not_ to see _anyone_ , nor is she allowed to leave, without my _explicit_ permission. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." He grasped Amata's forearm. "Let's go." He threw her to the ground in her room.

But Amata remained silent. Instead, she turned over her father's words in her head. Over and over and over again. What did her father mean when he said he "let them in"? He used those exact words. Did James and Alice come from the outside? No. That would be impossible. The outside world was an irradiated wasteland.

 _Nothing_ could survive out there.

And yet, James had willingly gone out. And Alice followed him. And Amata hadn't felt any worse for wear when the Vault door opened.

She needed more information.

* * *

 _ **As I stated earlier, I didn't want this to be a carbon copy of what I had previously written. However, if you prefer what I wrote before (the torture scene and the entire "Escape!" quest through Amata's perspective), I can totally add it to this chapter. Please let me know.**_

 _ **Thanks for reading everyone! I'll see you next week!**_

 _ **As always, please feel free to submit a review or PM me.**_


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note:** _Hi everyone! Here's this week's chapter!_

 _I took a few liberties with the dialogue, didn't want to be shackled to what was purely found in-game._

* * *

"Dammit," Kodiak pressed another cloth to the dead man's chest in a useless attempt to save him. Lyons's Pride had spent too much time and resources holding up in the alley between 42nd and Early Dawn Elementary.

They had to move.

But she'd let the non-believers have a good look at the fruit they had wrought. The Wastelanders they had insisted on taking on. Of the three they had brought with them, one had exploded and one had his power armor compromised by a shotgun to the chest. It wouldn't be long until the third joined them in whatever cruel afterlife waited for them beyond the Wastes.

Wastelanders had it easy. Act tough and die.

The Brotherhood had no such reprieve. Train. Kill. Secure tech. Breed. Die. Theirs was a more meaningful existence.

"Ma'am," Colvin motioned at the end of the alley, towards 42nd. Lyons gave him a nod. "I've got five."

The Sentinel signaled with a pair of fingers. Form up. The best the Brotherhood had to offer moved into cover at the end of the alley and beyond, setting up to engage the enemy. Five Uglies. Easy.

" _Engage_." At Lyons's command, red burst into the concrete jungle and impacted green flesh, sending a haze of yellow mist and the stench of roasted decaying flesh in the air.

" _I've got a civilian_ ," Gallows's report came through the comms.

Ice blue eyes rolled behind her helmet. _Why am I not surprised?_ " _Neutralize the enemy. Clean up after._ "

" _Understood_."

Lyons took aim at a mutie mug just before he was pumped full of lead. A flash of blue jumped onto the carcass, tearing into it with red-covered hands. As fast as it appeared, the mass of blue darted behind a pillar of concrete. But not before Lyons spied a yellow "101" emblazoned on its back. Wastelanders were always concerned with what they could loot off of a body, moreso than their own safety. Dogs.

" _All clear_."

Gallows approached the Wastelander. "It's not safe, civilian, get out of here."

The girl stared up at the man in power armor before sneering, "Fuckin' robot." Before Gallows could say anything, she dug into the pockets of the super mutants.

Dusk cackled over the radio. " _Oh my_ God _! I can't believe she called you a 'fuckin' robot'! That's hilarious!_ "

" _Enough. We've got a job to do. Back to the alley._ " Lyons's order prompted the entire Pride to return. The Sentinel gave the girl in blue a glare before joining her team. " _Jennings?_ " She stared down at the limp corpse, already knowing the answer.

But she'd hear him say it.

" _Negative_."

" _Right._ " Lyons's gaze fell on the girl in blue passing through the alley. She pushed through some of the most decorated members of the Brotherhood of Steel as if they were nothing more than globs of shit floating in a sewer. Lyons got a good look at her now. Greasy, disheveled, leather-colored hair that came down to the top of her ears. Dirt-covered-yet still visibly olive-skin. Rusty eyes sparkled with blue and lined with black. High cheekbones. Deep red lips. A blue leather jumpsuit that left little to the imagination. A body with well-defined curves in all the right places, even if her breasts could just fill up Lyons's hands.

She passed them by, muttering to herself the entire way. Deranged. Junkie. Wastelander. _Scum_. Amateur.

Lyons issued her orders. " _Let's move into the school and take out these mutant bastards. They've held our brothers down for too long._ "

" _Just like old times, eh Lyons?_ " Dusk's voice was playful over the channel, but Lyons didn't have time to dig up old memories. Or a familiarity that would suggest the pair of women shared something in their youth.

" _On target, Dusk_."

" _Yes, ma'am._ " She was irritated.

But Lyons didn't care. The Sentinel didn't get her rank from her father's favoritism. And she most definitely wouldn't have received it if the rumors-that she didn't care for men-floating around in the barracks turned out to be true. Which they were. But nobody needed to know that. She'd let them believe she was a career woman with no desire to get benched just because she popped out a kid.

Lyons turned and wrinkled her nose. The damned girl was making her way towards the school as well. " _Gallows, get rid of that civilian._ " _Before she gets one of us killed_.

" _Yes, ma'am._ " He chased after the girl, but she was already running. Rifle up, she engaged the muties.

 _Damned idiot._ " _Engage!_ " Lyons's Pride followed the girl's charge. Lasers and bullets flew through the air, smashing into concrete and flesh and metal. Lyons didn't chase after the stupid girl. She'd get herself killed and they'd have one less thing to worry about. The Sentinel ducked behind a pillar and opened fire at a mutie. His scream gurgled in his throat as his organs ignited within his chest and stomach. Two more shots to the face and the monster fell back, dead.

A ferocious shout came behind her. The mutie had grafted a metal helmet onto his skull. His flesh still bubbled from where metal and skin merged together. Lyons squeezed the trigger, pouring the red laser into his eyes. He screamed in pain and swallowed a few more shots. Lyons's clip ran out. She jammed another cell into the chamber. The brute raised his sledgehammer. He ate red again and crumpled to the ground. " _Watch yourselves, we've got brutes._ "

" _Roger._ "

Lyons entered the school alongside Vargas and the last Wastelander initiate. " _Status?_ "

Colvin answered first. " _Dusk and I have a visual on GNR plaza. Engaging the enemy._ "

" _Kodiak and I are on the civilian_ ," Gallows reported, " _Clearing out the rest of the school. Entering the plaza._ "

" _Roger. Vargas, Reddin, and I will join up shortly_." With a wave of her rifle, Lyons charged through the skeleton of the school. She was ready to kick some mutant ass. But by the time they reached the plaza, the girl in blue stood over a mutie and released a clip of 5.56 into its brain. The girl stared up at GNR and sighed, her shoulders raising and then lowering. " _Gallows, I told you to get rid of her,_ " Lyons growled.

" _No excuse_ _, ma'am. She provided supporting fire and engaged the enemy-_ "

A giant bellow pierced the air. Only one thing in the entire Capital Wasteland sounded like that. Rifles, laser or otherwise, wouldn't be enough to pierce its thick skin. Lyons whirled around. And there it was. A fat man. In the fountain. By the civilian.

An explosion ripped through the air and pain erupted at the back of Lyons's head. She blinked her eyes open and found herself laying on the ground. All barrels pointed at the massive behemoth behind Lyons and unleashed their clips. But it wouldn't be enough. She pressed her finger to her collar. "Civilian in blue!" The girl jerked back and stared at the woman pointing at the fat man. "Get the fat man and shoot it!" Lyons didn't wait to see if she obeyed. The Sentinel rolled onto her back and fired her rifle.

The hunchbacked behemoth roared in defiance at the assembled Brotherhood and raised its fire hydrant club in the air. It swung and sent a few of the power armored soldiers flying or sliding across the plaza. A dark, metal football soared through the air and hit the six-storied beast square in the chest. The mini-nuke detonated and ripped a new hole in its chest, sending blood and flesh and radiation down onto the plaza in a drizzle. The ten ton mutant was dead.

"Need a hand?" The girl in blue stood above Lyons. The fat man rested on the girl's shoulder.

Lyons scoffed and pushed herself up to her feet. "You got a death wish, sweetheart?"

Eyes narrowing, the girl spat, "I just saved your life. You could at least show some fuckin' decency."

"Oh, yeah, and calling one of my men a 'fuckin' robot' is decent. _Right_."

The girl shrugged. "Whatever. You all look like 'em anyway." She collided her shoulder with the Sentinel's. The stupid girl probably had a bruise the size of a baseball now. But Lyons wasn't in the mood to be disrespected.

Grabbing the girl by her collar, she spun her around and pointed a finger at her face. "Look here, _kid_ , I don't know _who_ you think you are, but you've got some _nerve_ talking to me like that. You don't even know _who_ we are. _What_ we do. Have. Some. Fucking. Decency. Oh, wait, you're a _Wastelander_. What was I thinking?" Lyons shoved the girl to the ground.

"Hey!" Stupid Girl just didn't know when to quit. She jumped up and shoved the Sentinel back, not even an inch. "Don't think you can push me around like I'm some _cube_ and you're some _boss_!" The fuck was this girl saying? Was she high or something? "I've just about _had it_ with all _you_ people! You're all so _mean_ and _so rude_! And who _the fuck_ are you calling a 'Wastelander'!? _You're_ the ones who live out here! Not me!"

Lyons narrowed her eyes. Then she realized it. She recognized the number on Stupid Girl's back. It was the same on Rothchild's map. She was a Vault Dweller. The Sentinel lowered her voice. "If you don't want to get everybody you care about murdered, I'd shut the hell up about that, if I were you. You know how many people would _kill_ to get into a Vault? To have a nice warm bed and a good meal? You'll be lucky if you go back and they're not dead already, with the way you're talking. So if you want to survive out here, shut the fuck up and listen. Do what you gotta do out here and _leave_. Your ass won't survive another day out here."

Stupid Girl jeered, "I'm a pretty good shot, if you haven't noticed." She pointed to the behemoth's corpse.

"You got lucky. Trust me. Pretty thing like you? You won't last." Lyons spoke over the comms, " _Let's clean up, people_."

"Hey!"

" _Roger._ "

"I'm not done with you!" Stupid Girl shouted.

Lyons didn't turn around. "Well I am. Beat it, kid. Let the professionals take over." She strode up the stairs to check in with Paladin Hoss. Stupid Girl just wouldn't let it go. She jumped in front of Lyons before continuing up the steps. "Where do you think _you're_ going?"

Stupid Girl sneered, "I'm going to talk to Three Dog." As if he were some celebrity or something. Moron.

* * *

 _ **Thanks for reading! See you next week!**_

 _ **Don't forget to review or send me a PM!**_


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note** : _So, no, I'm not dead. Just juggling work and life, now that I'm in the real world. Apologies for this taking so long, it was kind of hard to get back into Amata's headspace._

 _Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

 ** _WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS FEMALE-FEMALE SEXUAL CONTENT!_**

* * *

Buzzing droned in her ears, drilled into her skull, put a hazy film over everything coming into her field of vision. Or maybe that was the lights. Those overhead, fluorescent trapezoids filled with pure, white energy. Pure and clean and sterile and perfect. Not like the buzzing they emitted. One would think one would adjust to the constant droning of humming lights, especially since only they cast light on an otherwise cold, dark underground prison. But the silence rang in her ears, pinging and screeching and taunting with the pair of glowing trapezoids. Even they had someone. A partner. Another trapezoid.

She was alone.

Slamming her fists against the door would prove useless, she knew. So she waited. But the only contact she ever received was a toss of a food-filled aluminum tray, a bottle of water, and the quick-rinsed pot she used as a toilet. The damn thing still reeked of piss, even when empty. Even Wally hadn't come in to see her.

The Overseer was waiting her out. Seeing how long it would take before she cracked and caved and admitted defeat. Admitted that she had done something wrong. As if there was something inherently disgusting and foul with hiding her relationship. Take responsibility for her actions. In the Vault, everyone worked. Everyone had a purpose. No other options were ever presented.

Amata worked. Amata performed her daily duties. She reviewed reports. Filed paperwork. Maintained the Overseer's schedule. Conducted surprise inspections. So what if she spent her nights making love to Alice? Tasting her skin, taking her fingers into her own body. Fingers that pressed into her skin and bloomed blotches of blood: marks unseen, lying in wait until the next time they peeled off the layers of their leather prisons. Only alone were they together. Free. One. United in passion and warmth. Their only tie this world the love thrumming within their chests.

On the edge of sleep, just before falling, Amata remembered their time spent together.

* * *

"Good Girl, enjoy it. Savor it." Alice's low, sultry voice rippled over Amata's skin, washing down her cheek and trickling over her ear.

Amata obeyed. She rolled her hips back and up into her lover's, her ass rutting against Alice's smooth delta. When Amata's folds slathered her desire over her lover, the raven-haired girl couldn't suppress her moans of pleasure. And when Alice bounced her pelvis off of Amata's ass, over and over and over again, it only stoked the aching flames of lust within the lower girl.

It was Alice's left hand keeping Amata up, preventing her from collapsing onto the bed and succumbing to pleasure. That same hand squeezed one of Amata's breasts as fingers teased a nipple between. Alice's right hand found its rightful place at Amata's throat, squeezing and sending stars into the lower girl's mind. And Alice's mouth poured dirty, naughty things into Amata's ear. Her tongue traced its length, twisting and swirling and dipping inside, a taste of what her lover was capable of in other, more pleasurable places.

Another moan spilled from her lips, half cut off when the hand at her throat closed even tighter.

"Stop," came the growl in her ear.

She froze, heeding her lover's order. The hand at her chest released her breast, opting instead to flick at a dark nipple. Amata breathed, forcing herself to ignore the ache piercing deep within her core.

The mouth at her ear sighed in contentment, "Good Girl."

But it wasn't the end of her torment, Amata knew.

Fingers pinched down on her nipple, sending another wave of painful pleasure through her. In a previous time, Amata had not been prepared for such an attack, and had cried out in pain. Now, she breathed deep, blocking out as much sensation as she could. She let her mind float, not holding onto any one thought, in fear that it would distract her and break her self-inflicted trance.

Hard hands shoved her face-first onto the mattress. She complied, allowing her limbs to fall free beneath her. Breathe. All she needed to do was breathe. Her love would take care of her.

"You're doing very well, my Good Girl."

Hands rolled Amata over, exposing her breasts and shaven slit.

"Be still." Another command, rather than a warning.

Something wet nudged at her. Alice's tongue. She traced over and over, lapping up her desire and flicking at Amata's inner thighs. But never did she touch her folds.

Amata breathed, but the ache inside of her burned, threatened to overflow and force out a response. She _needed_ some form of release. Her skin lit aflame. Her face scorching in a combination of shame and passion. She needed it. She needed Alice.

A tiny gasp of air held her over. But her lover still perceived it.

Her tongue left Amata's body, as did the rest of her warmth. Amata opened her eyes at the absence. Alice crouched over her, red lips so close to Amata's own. If she flicked out her tongue, she could taste her. Take her in. Pull her so close and _have_ her.

"Naughty girl." Alice whispered. Her cinnamon eyes sparkled in the darkness of her room. Then, a mouth at her throat, sucking and biting and licking and coaxing those forbidden, loud moans from Amata's lips. Fingers slickened themselves with Amata's desire before shoving one, two, three, _four_ inside!

Amata screamed. Never had she been stretched so wide. It felt so _good_! She felt full. Whole. Beautiful. Wanted. _Desired_. Loved. Complete. As if nothing else in the world mattered. The world could end a second time, engulfed in nuclear fire until nothing remained, and Amata would still feel content. Enraptured with the woman ravaging her. But instead of voicing her pleasure, all she did was scream at the top of her lungs.

"Naughty girls must be punished." Amata heard the smile pressed against her ear.

"Yes, Mistress."

* * *

Had either failed in their assigned duties? No. Had their relationship affected their work? No. Then what was the problem? Why could she not be allowed this one thing? This one, little, tiny pleasure? It was not as if she had forsaken her duty as becoming an eventual mother in the Vault. Wally seemed satisfied enough. What more could her father want from her? What else would he take away from her?

When would it end?

When would she step up and say, "Enough is enough"?

Alice left. She defied the Overseer and left. Left to find her dad.

James.

James was a dad. He had once caught them, naked and in each other's arms. No room for denial or a misunderstanding. He cleared his throat and walked away. After, he warned, "Others in the Vault won't be as accepting as I am." He didn't yell. He didn't tell the Overseer. But he did help Alice fill out an application to move into a separate room. _"For privacy."_

He was a dad.

Not like the Overseer.

The Overseer provides. The Overseer protects. "To whom we owe everything, including our lives." We thank the Overseer for everything he does. _Well, he does a shit job of being a father._

 _What kind of father locks his daughter away? And for what? For a love so pure and perfect, it rivals the lights of the trapezoids?_

Or was he so ashamed of his daughter that he couldn't bear to see her? Is that why he locked her in a cage? Stowed her away and out of sight? Because she _wasn't pretty enough? Wasn't strong enough? Because he had been given a daughter and not a son?_ She did not have muscles, not like Alice's: honed from turning bolts and lifting crates and not asking for help. She didn't have those, no.

But she did have a lamp.

And Old Man Officer Taylor wasn't wearing his helmet.

Amata leapt through the open door. She swung. The lamp base connected with the old man's temple. By the time he hit the ground, Amata had already pounced on him. She tore the 10mm pistol from its holster, ripped the police baton from its belt loop, and snagged the extra magazine. A lock disengaged, announcing the presence of a newcomer.

The Overseer stood, skinny and frail, in the doorway to his office. Fear flashed through his eyes. Red rushed into his face. His voice, where it bellowed before, now trembled. "What is the meaning of this?"

"You can't keep me in a cage forever, Daddy," she snarled, still half-crouching over the unconscious old man. One of her hands grasped the police baton, the other held the pistol, her index finger twitching on the rail.

 _"Watch that trigger finger, Amata,"_ Alice whispered, her breath tickling Amata's ear and sending goosebumps down her neck: the first time Alice had sent her heart racing. _"Keep it on the rail, parallel to the barrel, like this. You don't want it to go off prematurely."_ Alice's hands guided hers on the BB gun. Amata savored the touch.

She knew then. Even then. Even as young as she was then. Their connection was special. They were meant to be together. Not apart. Not ever apart. And she knew then, even then, that it would be her own father who would tear them asunder.

The same man now quivering in terror before her.

"You dare speak to me like that?" The feeble man's voice severed her from the memory, ripping her away from Alice once more. "I am your father, and you will NOT challenge my authority!"

It had not been her intent, nor her desire, to challenge her father. To become his rival. But, as Overseer, she would have power. As Overseer, she would be in charge. She would make the rules. She would define right from wrong. She would protect. She would provide. She would keep Alice by her side. Now _that_ sounded like a good idea.

Amata's grin spread across her face. She rose to her full height, rolling her shoulders back and straight and staring her father in his eyes. "I already have, _father_. Or have you forgotten why you locked me away in the first place?" She placed emphasis on his new label: father, implying distance, rather than the close and personal, "Daddy".

The look on her father's face could only be described as priceless: eyes widened, nostrils flared, clenched jaw, and mouth drawn out in a line.

Pouncing on his dumbfounded state, Amata strode towards him and taunted in continued defiance, "You cannot change who I am, father. No matter how long you lock me away and try to forget, _I_ will still be _me_." His eyes shifted to the side, avoiding her gaze, defying her show of authority. "And _nothing_ you do will ever change how I _feel_ , _what_ I feel for Ali-"

Her father's face faded into hollow darkness. Cold, polished concrete licked at her cheek. Blinking brought her vision into focus. The toe of a black leather boot rushed at her. A sharp, shooting pain speared into the middle of her face. Her nose. She coughed, spewing forth sanguine spittle. Then came another kick. And another.

"That's enough, Officer Wilkins. She may be a bit... vexing, but she is _still_ my daughter." Her father's voice dripped with distaste. He knelt down on one knee, staring at the woman heaving onto the polished concrete. "I have coddled you for far too long. Been too soft, thinking I should offer a gentle hand in place of your mother. And look at what it has done. Is this the thanks I get for doing my best as a father?"

Amata pushed herself onto her elbows and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She narrowed her eyes and glared at her father. "Your seed may have fathered me, but you'll never be my dad."

The Overseer shook his head, sighing. "What did I do to deserve such insolence? Never have I laid a hand on you, Amata-"

"No," she half-laughed. "You left that to Officer O'Brian." Only now were those bruises beginning to yellow.

"An act I deemed _necessary_."

"An act ended, thanks to my _girlfriend_." The Overseer's grimace only deepened Amata's sneering grin.

He stood, staring down his nose at his daughter. "You continue to spite me. Eventually, you will understand why I have done the things I have done. But now, you are too short-sighted, too young, too immature to understand. They corrupted you, just as the corruption outside has done to them."

There it was again. How could James and Alice have been corrupted, if they had never been outside? The only logical explanation available, would be that they had come from outside in the first place. But such a thing wasn't possible. They had been told nothing could live out there. Told. But was it true?

She needed more.

"Perhaps it is _you_ who is tainted."

"Insolent -" The answer was there, written plainly on his face. It just needed a little push.

She hit him where it hurt. "Maybe that's why mom died!"

His face fell. She had him. She. HAD. Him. He opened his mouth, the answer to all of her questions waiting on his lips. Then he stole her victory and growled, "Officer Wilkins, escort my daughter to her room. She needs a heavy hand, and I, as her father, cannot bear to inflict such pain on her myself. She is a part of me, and I cannot harm myself. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good."

"You do me harm by endorsing such cruelty!" Amata scrambled to her feet. A fuzzy, dizzy haze filled her head and brought her back down to the concrete. A pit formed in her stomach.

The Overseer stated, "Wilkins."

Wilkins said nothing, only grasped a fistful of raven hair and dragged the screaming young woman into her bedroom.

* * *

 _ **Thanks for reading! Since it's NaNoWriMo, I'm hoping to crank out 40k by the end of the month (averages to about 3k/1.5 chapters a day), so you can expect more updates in the (very) near future!**_

 _ **See you in the next chapter!**_


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